Light, The Doctor, and Steampunk
by Outakurebecca
Summary: There are so many OCs in this story it isn't even funny. For those in search of an epic tale of action, wit, and general awesome... Don't read this!
1. Chapter 1

XxX -Chapter I: Of Light and Other Things that Shine- XxX

Some places are very dark. Some are very brightly lit. Some places don't know which category they fall in. Sunlight can be a bitch like that.

Sunlight can be so biased that even in broad daylight, which it wasn't, a perfectly respectable London alley could go dark as night due to being surrounded by overbearingly tall buildings.

It didn't matter now because it was night and everything was equalley dark.

*TARDIS noises*

A pulsing beacon illuminated the brickwork on either side of the incoming blue police box. A tousled street cat, the only witness to the sudden materialization, was startled into an epiphany. She scurried of the catch some rats and be a better mother to her children.

When the light ceased and the sexy noises were silenced, the distinctive doors of the TARDIS clicked open. A man in a trench coat with short brown hair strolled out, followed by another with neither a trench coat, brown hair, or a stroll.

"Come along, Companion!" The Doctor called to the follower, not even bothering to turn around. He put his hands in his pockets and continued at a brisk pace.

The other man jogged slightly to catch up. "Where are we?" he inquired. He couldn't make out anything now that the warm light of the TARDIS had faded. He wondered idly how the doctor could tell where he was going, if he was going anywhere at all.

"Typical American," the doctor replied, "can't tell London if she's looking you in the face."

"London's a she?"

"Yeah, like the TARDIS."

"And we ride inside her?"

"I wouldn't think too much about it."

XxX

Also in London, a young man named Graham sat tinkering with some spare parts in an abandoned attic. He had been gathering the bits for a few weeks now, and his creation was nearing completion.

Graham jotted a torque calculation onto the splintery wooden desk. He had run out of paper the day before yesterday. The dim flicker of the lamp made strange shadows on his face where he bunched his eyebrows in concentration, the contrast making him older than he actually was.

A glance up from his number crunching revealed his work. It was mostly brass, all the carefully aligned cogs glistening with polish. Eventually it would rotate a drum that in turn would pluck notes and clash cymbals to make a two and a half minute song. Well, the first time would be that long; it slowed from there. Hopefully a shop nearby would buy it and he could afford not to steal lunch for a few days. He smiled and returned to his math.

A gust of polluted London air penetrated the cracks of the attic's walls, blowing out his only light. When others would have sworn, Graham only sighed. He fumbled around in the desk's only functioning drawer for a moment and pulled out his matchbook. However, when he opened it, it was empty. Graham sighed again, got up and retrieved his coat from the back of his chair.

The floor boards creaked. The door hinge squeaked. The two flights of stairs with three missing steps added their complaints. The only quiet thing in the house was Graham. When he left, the house continued to babble without him.

An upturned hat was on his doorstep. Graham picked it up and examined it. He had always wanted a bowler hat. After brushing some soot off, he placed it snugly on his almost blonde head and set off with a slight smile.

XxX

Ben had only been the doctor's companion for a short time. The doctor preferred female companionship as it raised ratings on his sci-fi series, but the new traveler had proved himself useful and adequately witty on their adventures thus far.

It was just after eleven, according to the blonde companion's smart phone. The doctor had sonic-ed it up to adjust to any time period automatically. It also could make calls to anywhere in any time frame. It was basically iOS 42.0.

"It's not that terribly late," Ben observed, slipping his cellular device back into his pocket. "Where is everybody?"

"That is a bit strange, yeah?" The doctor agreed. He continued to walk with wide steps and his hands deep in his trench coat. He ducked his head into an alley and squinted for lack of light and glasses. "It's not even raining that bad..."

"There's somebody," Ben pointed to a lamp post on the other side o the cobblestone street.

The doctor craned his neck as if being taller would improve his vision. "Where?"

Now Ben knew the doctor was messing with him. "There. By the lamp post. He's looking right at us!"

"Right."

"You're not funny, you know."

"Niether are you." The doctor smiled aggravatingly and continued roaming with a purpose. Ben shook his head and crossed the street, looking both ways despite there being no automobiles, parked or otherwise.

XxX

The doctor was used to being by himself. He had once been called a lonely angel, but he knew that 'angelic' was very far from what he was.

When he did have a chance to be with others, he accepted it gladly. He welcomed it, sometimes too eagerly. He was always a bit put out when they wandered. He was The Doctor. Why would you pass up The Doctor?

Still, one thing he had learned from his experience with humans is to let them go, give them space, give them time. And if anyone could give time and space, it was The Doctor. Never the less, it stung a tad.

It stung even more when a slash of light attached to an iridescent arm swung out from a shadow and pierced the doctor in the side.

XxX -End of Chapter I: Of Light and Other Things that Shine- XxX


	2. Chapter 2

XxX -Chapter II: Of Loneliness and Other Things that Hurt- XxX

"Hey!" The approaching figure waved at Graham. He was very loud.

/How can he see me?/ Graham wondered frantically. /He shouldn't be able to see me./

Graham averted his eyes from the foreigner (he /must/ have been a foreigner to wear /that/) and stood very still. Usually this made those who came the closest to noticing him go back to whatever was concerning them.

The foreigner stopped just before the curb. Graham shut his eyes and hoped he would go away.

"Just because you can't see me doesn't mean I'm not here," the foreigner stated, peering up from the height offset of the street. "What are you, five?"

"How can you see me?" Graham asked quietly, taking a few steps back.

The foreigner sighed, "Having glasses doesn't make me blind." He acted like this was a common misunderstanding.

All Graham had wanted was to relight his candle on the street light. The one on this corner was the easiest to reach, and he needed to finish his gadget by morning if he was going to get any breakfast money. Surely he was allowed to sneak out if it was for a very short time.

Now he didn't know what to do.

Assessing that he would get no further response from the frightened light-stealer, the foreigner moved on to something that had been bothering him. "Where /is/ everybody?" He looked up and down the street to emphasize his point.

When he looked back, the foreigner was alone again.

XxX

The hallways were crowded. The lights were harsh. There was a persistent buzzing in the doctor's head. He blinked his eyes rapidly.

Doctor.

A scene, mid-shot, was taking place around him. Some sort of school with narrow corridors and too many students. Public school, he thought by the lack of uniforms.

Doctor.

He was walking briskly, like he was going to be late. He hadn't made a conscious effort to walk, and he hadn't the slightly idea where he was going. He was just traveling.

Doctor.

Endlessly traveling.

Doctor Who?

What was that voice? Who was calling out to him? He meant to only turn his head, but his whole body pivoted. His arms swung out like a rag doll and nailed the girl behind him. She fell backwards, throwing her books up as she did.

He reached out a hand to help her up. He was about to apologize when he bent into the cool blade of a knife and was unable to speak.

He gasped and woke up.

"Doctor," he was greeted by the voice from his dream. It was calm and had a hidden texture he couldn't place.

The speaker was a young female dressed in all white. A lab coat? No, the doctor decided as his vision focused, a trench coat. A white trench coat.

He chuckled.

"Cottage cheese," he said.

The woman blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Cottage cheese," the doctor repeated. "Your voice is cottage cheese."

There are a few other things that should be mentioned:

One, the doctor had a slit in his clothes, by his belly button, where a knife had previously been. There was a fair amount of dried blood, but no wound.

Two, aside from the trench coat, the woman was completely purple.

She wasn't /wearing/ purple, she /was/ purple.

"A very nice hue, I might add," the doctor complimented. "Plums. Plums and cottage cheese. You know, the last time I was in London there was a significant lack of crayon-colored humans. Not to be racist or anything. Hmm, you /are/ human, I do believe..."

"Correct," she said. "Josie Femberg, you may call me."

The doctor studied her closely.

Femberg cleared her throat. "On to business. Please hand over your screwdriver."

"Yeah... That's not going to happen," the doctor swung his legs off the table he had been laying on and got to his feet. "You see, while you might be human, humans aren't plums. Well, in this century they're not. What is this, 1860, I believe?"

"1862."

"Right. So the only reason for a human to be such a color before, say, the 2130s, is Reizoku: an enslavement technique with an unusual affect on skin pigment.

"Furthermore," the doctor continued animatedly to the blankly staring Femberg, "the most common users of this form of servitude are not the kind of people I would like to have a screwdriver of this level of sonic."

Josie Femberg never changed expression.

"Such a cleaver doctor," she observed, lifting a small remote from a pocket of her coat.

"However, you assume that we require your compliance." She clicked the remote. Metal blinds covered the windows and the door.

"We don't need your will," she tapped the doctor on the nose, "after all, we have you."

XxX -End of Chapter II: Of Loneliness and Other Things that Hurt- XxX


	3. Chapter 3

XxX -Chapter III: Of Technology and Other Things that don't make Sense- XxX

The first rays of the sunrise creeped through the cracks in the walls. Graham didn't need them anymore, he had finished his music box a few hours before. He hadn't been able to relight his candle, which would have been the most efficient way to light his workspace, so he had resorted to other means.

/What a bother,/ Graham thought.

He had altered one wall of the room to fold out, revealing a space where insulation /should/ have been, but could now hold Graham's less mobile inventions. One such instrument consisted of two brass plates that, when the foot pedals were turned, rubbed together. After several minutes of strenuous pedaling, the friction caused the plates to first heat, then glow. He had first created it on a whim because he disliked the flickering of candlelight, but it proved too much hassle to use on a regular basis.

Graham finished collapsing the light machine and stowed it next to his other inventions that weren't for sale. He then turned the crank that slowly replaced the wall to cover the now invisible storage unit.

The music box had already been throughly tested, but Graham wanted to listen to the melody once more before he sold it. He gave the device twelve turns of the tiny handle, enough times to play the song exactly one time.

(all in italics)

Whir whirl whir click

(a pause)

Plink plinka, pa pa plink

Dum da dum clink

WUB WUB WUB

(end italics, song continues in background)

Graham smiled. His legs might be aching from running home and pedaling the light machine, but he couldn't help being happy. It was perfect.

XxX

Ben was frustrated. /What's the point of adventuring if there's nothing to do and no one to do it with?/

It didn't help that he was utterly lost. Shortly after /that guy/ ran off, a fog had developed. If the darkness hasn't been enough, now he really couldn't find his way back to the TARDIS.

His foot kicked a loose stone and sent it racing into the nearest alley. It thwacked something metallic, making Ben jump.

/It's the zombies,/ he freaked out. /The doctor's a sadist and he dragged me into a freaking zombie apocalypse!/

"You there!" the sudden shoat triggered a very manly shriek. The approaching man pretended he didn't hear. He wore cheap clothes in a way that made them look twice their value. Clearly not a zombie.

Ben regained his composure. "Hello! I was beginning to think I was the only one out here."

The man gave him a strange look. "Yes, well, it /is/ twenty minutes before curfew is lifted. My God, man! You must be quite green..."

/Curfew? For a whole city?!/

"No matter!" The man continued, "You'll do nicely. Could I ask for your assistance?"

"Um, alright?" /It's not like I have anything else to do.../

"Wonderful! All I need you to do is throw the pole over after I'm on the other side," the man smiled.

"Wait, wot?"

Without any further explanation, the man slipped an object, about the size of a spy glass, out of his interior vest pocket. He clicked a button on the side and object unfolded into a seamless, ten-foot pole. The man aimed the pole down one of the foggy allies and took a charging pose. After rocking on his heels a few times and taking a deep breath, he sprinted down the alley. When Ben could no longer see him in the dense fog, a sound like a pen dropping followed by twin thuds came from the alley.

Ben ran down the alley, expecting to see the man impaled or being devoured by zombies. All he found was the pole and a brick wall, creating a dead end.

"Hey!" He called out. "You okay? Where are you?!"

"Shhhh! Don't let her hear you! Just throw it over!"

/Oh, the man was on the other side of the wall. Wait, did he just pole vault?!/

In a daze, Ben retrieved the pole from where it lay. An inscription at the base caught his eye. It read, "Graham&Sam Cracker Co."

"I don't mean to be rude, but could you hurry, Foreigner?" The man asked impatiently. Or maybe nervously. It was hard to tell with the wall in the way.

Ben tipped the pole over.

"Thanks, chap!" There was the sound of the man clicking the pole back to its original size. "I don't believe I got your name, eh?"

"Ben Cartographer."

"Jolly good. Mine's Daniel Jesus. My family owns Nordiculous, that shop down the street, if you ever want to pop by. Later, chap!" His footsteps crunched away.

Ben shook his head. /Did the entire population of London consist of weirdoes?/

As he walked away, the sunrise managed to penetrate the fog enough to light a brass plaque that adorned the brick wall. It announced, "Private property of Lady Sarah Hime".

XxX -End of Chapter III: Of Technology and Other Things that don't make Sense- XxX


	4. Chapter 4

XxX -Chapter IV: Of Explanations and Other Things that Require Thought- XxX

/Well, this is certainly a fix,/ the doctor thought. Both he and Femberg were in an deadlock of sorts. Each had something the other wanted, the doctor had the sonic screwdriver and Femberg had the remote that would open the door. Both were stuck and terribly bored.

Whoever was using Renzoku to manipulate Femberg had thought of nearly everything. The doctor would never harm someone who was acting against their will, nor did he have the resources to undo the curse. Femberg would wait until the doctor fell asleep, take the screwdriver, and make her escape. The knife wound had slightly weakened the doctor, even when it had already healed completely.

The doctor spoke up, "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Not at all," Femberg said with a yawn.

"Why did you heal me? And how?"

"Future technology," Femberg said.

"Or maybe alien," she added after some consideration.

"Yeah, I got that much," the doctor replied and began to pace. "I don't suppose they tell you much, the ones who did this to you?"

"The Researchers tell me what I need to know."

"Researchers?"

"/The/ Researchers, if you please, Sir."

The doctor searched his mind for any memories of these 'The Researchers'. He found nothing.

"Well," the doctor continued, "I'm going to rule out future technology because /I/ sure didn't bring it here. It reminds me of something, healing technology, hmm..."

The doctor paced faster, wishing he had more room to do so. He scrunched his eyebrows together and pinched the bridge of his nose, continually muttering to himself. Femberg looked on, not caring whether he remembered or not.

Abruptly, the doctor stopped and looked up, eyes wide. "Ah! Clever, clever, clever, you are clever," he turned on his heel and approached Femberg. "Not as clever as me, but it did throw me for a bit."

Femberg raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

"Gallifray had technology that could do this," the doctor motioned to his ripped shirt and the absence of a knife wound. "I wasn't one to visit the nurse that often, so it slipped my mind. I just remembered an upperclassmen of mine telling me about it. Laura, I think it was. Yeah, that was her name. She got hurt a lot.

"After the time wars, a lot of that technology was lost. I suppose some of it might have survived as shrapnel. The question is, how would it end up on Earth?

"The Researchers! They must have some sort of obsession with collecting Gallifrey technology, Reizoku was derived from some experiments done by Time Lords, after all. Not completed there, mind you. No way something like that would be useful to Time Lords.

"So they come to Earth, these 'The Researchers', and lure me here to take some of my technology. What greater source of Gallifrey technology than the last Time Lord?"

Femberg sighed, "You're all caught up now. Happy?"

"But that's not all. If you were just after the screwdriver, why not take it when I was unconscious? It shouldn't have been that hard to find. Yes, you're after something more... much more... the TARDIS perhaps?"

Femberg looked surprised for the first time.

"Ah ha! I knew I was on to something!" The doctor announced with triumph.

Femberg sputtered a bit. She walked toward the doctor with heavy, shaking steps. Her eyes glowed slightly plum for a moment. She was receiving new orders. He would not be getting any more information out of her.

The doctor wasn't discouraged. "Now Josie, I wouldn't rush into things if I were you-"

Femberg took a sudden tumble backwards, landing on her butt.

"-it makes me feel too clever when things work out." The doctor stepped around Femberg, pulling out his screwdriver and sonicing her on his way. The doors and windows opened when the device found the remote in the pocket of her white trench coat. Femberg, whose eyes had stopped glowing, was looking incredulously at her shoe and the scrap of yellow stuck to it.

"Always bring a banana to a party," the doctor chuckled as he stepped out.

XxX -End of Chapter IV: Of Explanations and Other Things that Require Thought- XxX


	5. Chapter 5

XxX -Chapter V: Of Encounters and Other Things that have Mixed Results- XxX

Morning came to London. The gloomy, curfew-infested fog was being hurriedly displaced by folk and the sun glinting off their goggles. Top hats were tipped this way and that, curtsies granted, and the standard exchange of sentences between people who really didn't have time for each other.

"Top of the morning to you!"

"And the rest of the day to yourself!"

But really, when they say it so cheerfully like that, one can't help but smile.

Graham yawned and readjusted the cloth cover on his invention. No one acknowledged him as he made his way through the people. He didn't mind, as long as they didn't bump into him.

It was strange, how everyone's eyes passed right over him, yet made adjustments to their path so they wouldn't collide. It was almost automatic, an instinct not to run into something seen out of the corner of the eye. Except Graham wasn't in the corner of anything.

He reached his destination. It was a shop between the warming house and the water treatment center, where the privileged /paid/ for their water. It got a lot of foot traffic, and would get even more when the temperatures dropped and travelers swarmed the neighboring buildings. Not to mention Christmas. Was that this month already? Guess so.

The street was at a slant so one had to climb the cracked cement stairs if coming from the water treatment center and down them if from the direction of the warming house. Graham avoided both options by walking a side street that ended in a lovely gate which could not manage to keep both it's doors open at once. He wondered, not for the first time, if he could be commissioned to fix the mechanism that kept them open. It would be a simple fix, not nearly a challenge, but a job is a job is a meal.

The sign above the shop door displayed the name of the establishment in a simple font: The Radiator.

The bell twanged when Graham entered. His sister, Sam Cracker, looked up from a shelf where she was stocking an assortment of wind-up toys Graham had sold the owner last week. Her tan-colored eyes, unlike the faceless ones on the street, recognized him immediately. Eventually, if he spent enough time with a person, they would start to see and hear him more clearly. Being his older sister, Sam had no trouble finding Graham, even in a dense London crowd. Which made the foreigner, whom he had never met before, all the more peculiar.

"Graham," she smiled sweetly. "I see you finished in time. Cutting it a bit close to the deadline, that's very unlike you."

"And you're wearing heels," he smiled back. "That's very unlike you."

Sam popped her foot to show them off. "I thought I'd get one use out of them before we sell them. No scuff marks or mud, a great find I do say."

Graham chuckled. To Sam, 'a great find' meant a trip to (street name), where all the rich girls in extravagant dresses lived. They wouldn't notice the absence of one pair of shoes out of the dozens they owned, anyway.

The curtains to the back room parted and The Radiator's owner, Brian Jackson, appeared. Graham went to the counter to sell his music box to him. Mr. Jackson didn't acknowledge him, he had reached the stage when all he needed was a nudge and no distractions to perceive the young inventor. Graham was about to say hello when he was interrupted by the twang of the door bell.

Sam, who was closest to the door, began to greet the costumer, "Good day, sir-"

...to find that he wasn't a customer at all.

"Sorry! Sorry!" The man apologized loudly, running down Sam's aisle with a jumping side step to avoid hitting her. He was wearing mostly blue, had slightly bulging eyes, and was eating a banana without a peel.

"I assume there's a back exit?" The doctor called back.

"Only if you want to swim!" Sam informed him. The back door led to the loading docks.

"Blast." The doctor turned and pointed a device at the main entrance. It glowed blue and made a distinctive noise. The door locked on its own.

"Brilliant!" Mr. Jackson exclaimed. "It's about time things got interesting around here."

XxX

Josie Femberg sprinted to keep the doctor in sight. Her breath was short and most of her body was in agony, but she couldn't stop, she had to catch the doctor. She knew failure to follow The Researcher's orders would be infinitely more painful that any physical exertion.

She had to keep running. All because of a stupid banana peel.

She had never been one for sports, her capture by The Researchers and the physical training that went with it had not changed much. The Researchers weren't human, they didn't understand human capability and the lack thereof.

How was she supposed to catch a grown man who spent at least a third of his air time running? It wasn't going to happen! At this point she was merely postponing the punishment for not completing an order.

The doctor turned left at the T in the road onto the street that paralleled the river. Goddamn it, those merging into traffic must yield! Slow down, at least!

Josie made the turn sort of shortly after. She was immediately filled with despair. The street continued at an /up hill/. Luckily, the doctor decided to enter a shop while he was still in her sights. Josie Femberg smiled. She might catch the doctor yet.

XxX

Sam went to investigate the locked door. Yep. It was locked.

"How did you /do/ that?" Graham whispered in astonishment.

"Hm? Sonic screwdriver and a well-placed banana does the-" The doctor's eyes found Graham. "Oh my, my, my, I didn't see you there at first with that TARDIS key on."

XxX

She reached the door of The Radiator, panting and shaking but triumphant. Josie Femberg jiggled the handle; it stubbornly refused her entry. She looked up.

There was a face in the window. A face she knew.

/Sam hasn't changed at all,/ Josie thought. She glanced at her purple hands. /Me, on the other hand.../ Her brown eyes drooped.

Josie, plum-colored and defeated, raced off with unbelievable speed in no direction in particular.

XxX -End of Chapter V: Of Encounters and Other Things that have Mixed Results- XxX


	6. Chapter 6

XxX -Chapter VI: Of Feels and Other things that Disorient- XxX

It had taken a lot of wandering about, but At last Ben found the TARDIS. It was /not/ where they left it. It was on the other side of town. What the flesh.

He inserted his key in the lock. The door swung easily open. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Simple enough, right?

Something was wrong.

The TARDIS usually presented a sense of wonder, life, possibility. No matter how many times one entered it, the affect was the same.

Except this time.

What was different? On prima facie, nothing. Little things, however, were subtly altered. The polish was dull. The floor didn't clack footsteps quite so crisply. The vibrancy of the TARDIS' interior had faded.

Being bigger on the inside didn't mean the TARDIS wasn't empty.

XxX

Jackie had never had a dream like /that/ before. She sat up on her cot in her third story flat and tried to recollect it. It had started innocently enough, she was sneaking out after curfew. She had a difficult time remembering where she had been going, but decided it didn't matter because she never got there.

Instead, she had ducked between two buildings to avoid being spotted by a group of white-clad figures. They were rushing while trying to appear relaxed. If ever there was something worth investigating, this was it.

The group stopped in an alley a few streets down. Jackie ducked behind a rubbish bin. The vantage point was limited but adequate.

The figures, there were three of them, had their attention on a strangely ordinary object. A police box. There were many of them around the city, but this one was different. It was blue, and the windows were all wrong.

The figures pulled various devices from their creamy white trench coats. Each was small and metallic with shapes Jackie couldn't make sense of. They were assembled into a larger device and attached to the side of the police box.

Suddenly, a nauseating light began to pulsate. It was the color of banana Laffy Taffy.

/Laffy Taffy,/ Jackie pondered. /What is /that/?/ She had certainly never heard of it before, but at the moment in her dream it had been completely obvious what it was.

This light illuminated the nervous faces of the figures. Jackie gasped. They were purple. Their faces. Were purple. But the nervous bit. That was important too. The obnoxious light was apparently /not/ part of the plan.

The light got steadily brighter with each pulse. The air was filled with electricity, whatever that was. A better way to describe it... it was prickly, kind of. Like Velcro. /Damn it,/ Jackie groaned in frustration. /I don't remember what that is either!/

At this point in the dream, the three figures in white were yelling frantically.

The blonde: What's happening, Claire?!

The Asian: Shut up, Blume! I don't know either!

The brunette: ...!

The blonde: ...!

The Asian: ...!

The blonde: Should we run for it?

The brunette: I don't recommend it...

The Asian: The Researchers... Punishment...

The blonde: Right... Gosh dang it! What do we do?!

The Asian: Blume! Stop being such a Tyrone!

The brunette: ...!

The blonde: ...!

The Asian: ...!

The brunette: Let's get out of here.

The blonde: Right.

The Asian: Even if they do punish us, I ain't even mad.

The trio scampered away, their running form slightly hindered by flinching from side to side, as if they were being jabbed repeatedly with a soup spoon.

Jackie, however, found herself unable to move, no matter how much she wanted to. The pressure all around her was inescapable. The pins and needles graduated to forks and railroad spikes.

Finally, something broke. A barrier, perhaps? It was like contracting a sudden case of the feels (Jackie had stopped trying to explain all this new terminology to herself) and getting hit by a train at the same time. Like jumping a car. Like the shock wave of Pompeii. Like the thrill of seeing a man leave a footprint on the moon.

That's when she woke up. Jackie shook her head. What had she eaten to make her dream such strange things? Ah, yes.

She had walked into a small restaurant yesterday and realized she had forgotten her wallet. She had gotten up to leave when the man at the counter motioned her back and said, "A lady as pretty as yourself shouldn't have to pay for her food." He had repeated this louder and louder until a gent at a nearby table got up and asked her (blushingly) what she wanted to eat.

She asked for a hamburger.

Jackie sighed. She would make sure that never happened again. She got up, opened her wardrobe, and decided what to wear. She chose a blue dress, in honor of the police box in her dream.

She went to the mirror to make sure she was presentable. She was shocked at what she saw.

Her eyes were normally a light blue, almost clear. Now they were blue. TARDIS blue.

It hadn't been a dream.

XxX -End of Chapter VI: Of Feels and Other things that Disorient- XxX


	7. Chapter 7

XxX -Chapter VII: Of Backstories and other things one can't Trust- XxX

"Sorry, what?" Graham asked.

"I didn't see you there at first," the doctor repeated.

"No, I got that," Graham said. "What was the next bit?"

"Oh, that," the doctor put his hands in his deep pockets. "TARDIS key. With the right alterations it can create a field of stealthiness around whoever wears it. It's called a perception filter, ancient Gallifrey technolo-"

The doctor stopped abruptly. He squinted at Graham.

"Josie?!" Sam exclaimed from her position at the door. After a moment of shock, she fumbled with the latch and tried to open the door.

"What are you doing?!" The doctor rushed over and pulled her away.

"She's my best friend!" Sam yelled. "We have to let her in! I have to-"

Graham: "-she's right, no one's seen Josie in, what? Five months?"

Mr. Jackson: "A bloody missin' person-"

"Shut up!" The doctor shouted. There was a breath of silence.

The doctor spoke calmly. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Your friend is in a complicated situation right now. I can't let-"

Sam pushed his restraining arms away. Her heels clomped on the wooden floor with more force than a judge's mallet. She jabbed a finger in the doctor's direction.

"Don't tell me," she seethed, "about complicated. I'll tell you, living on this side of London is bloody complicated enough without all the bs that's been going down lately. City wide curfew? What the hell? Before that happened-"

"Six months ago," Graham informed them.

"-it was just Graham, Josie, me, and this shop."

"Oi!" Brian protested. "And me!"

Sam ignored him. "Graham made a fair amount on his inventions, and when he wasn't selling, Josie and I would supplement with what we... picked up. I'll be the first to admit it pretty much sucked.

"Then I get a job at the shop here, see? And we ate a bit better. I was ecstatic. I could support my little brother more like an older sister should. Like our parents would have, if they were still around.

"But that job made Josie the most dependent. You don't know her like I do, Josie doesn't do /dependent/.

"So she job hunts. Not like we didn't before, but now she's out for hours more. She reads every newspaper in the rubbish, looks into every whisper of a chance. I suppose that's what did it for her."

The men who knew the rest of the story looked away.

"Just after this curfew thing started up, Josie gets an offer. She was all excited over it that morning. A job (with straight pay!) training horses at this ranch down the line," Sam sniffed. "It was the perfect job for her. She's great with animals, Josie is. At first I thought she had just missed her train back... but she didn't come back at all."

The fierce look came back to Sam's glistening eyes. "I'll have you know that I have been treading in poverty for most of my life and I've lost good people. Good friends. I can pick the pocket of the most apprehensive gent in London," she pulled the doctor's screwdriver from a fold of her skirt, causing the doctor to pat down his jacket and swear under his breath, "and I know I can handle whatever situation you can put me in, no matter how complicated."

The doctor was impressed. "Well Miss, I see you are a force to be reckoned with." She smiled and gave him back his precious screwdriver.

"Affirmative," a staticky voice called from the far wall of the shop.

"K9?!" The doctor said without believing. He ran to where the noise had come from. Sure enough, the robotic head of a dog was protruding from a crate of miscellaneous gadgets.

Graham was close behind. "So that's what it does," he mused.

"You lot are full of surprises," the doctor concluded with a scratch to K9's metallic head. "Can't trust you to be normal, can I?" The doctor cleared all the other items off his robotic hound and moved him to the center of the aisle. He noticed a price tag tied around the collar.

"DWP unit. Minor repairs needed. £12," the doctor read. "What does DWP stand for?"

"Made it up," Graham admitted.

"We call 'im Jesse when customers aren't around," Mr. Jackson explained. "A fancy acronym can the different between £2 and £20, I always say."

"You never say that," Sam said.

Mr. Jackson nodded, "But it sounds good, yeah?"

While the two went on friendly bickering, the doctor inspected K9. Graham watched eagerly and without a word.

/How...?/ the doctor contemplated. /How did these people get so much Galifrey technology?/ It was scattered down the aisle as well. Every shelf had at least one ancient artifact.

/They might be in league with The Researchers,/ the doctor warned himself. /I can't let my guard down. No matter how scaring their backstory is, it could be complete lies./

The doctor soniced K9 idly as Graham silently observed.

XxX -End of Chapter VII: Of Backstories and other things one can't Trust- XxX


	8. Chapter 8

XxX -Chapter VIII: Of Voices and other things that Confuse- XxX

Winters in London are mild.

Pfft.

Wrapping her jacket tightly around her, Jackie continued down the street she had traversed in her dream. It wasn't for the chill; she needed the jacket's high collar, in combination with her hat, to hide her face and eyes. Jackie was part of the it-crowd, people would notice.

Her vivid blue eyes recognized the alley with the strange blue box. She glanced discreatly up and down the main road before casually strolling down the alley. The police box wasn't exactly hidden, but Jackie knew she wouldn't have spotted it if she hadn't been looking for it.

_You and I share that quality, don't we Jackie?_

Jackie spun around to locate the source of the voice. Her hat fluttered to the ground, exposing her TARDIS-blue eyes. "Who's there?" she asked.

_The more appropriate question is, who's here?_ The voice replied. Jackie found herself tapping her temple. She quickly put her hand down, shivering slightly.

She turned to the police box. "It's got something to do with this damn box..."

_If by 'damn box' you mean 'damn sexy', then yes, it's got everything to do with me._

"Are you... in my head?" Jackie staggered back a few steps. "I've got an inanimate object in my head?!"

_Inanimate? I find that offensive._

The doors of the TARDIS opened. Jackie gasped. The TARDIS yawned and and checked Jackie's nails.

"Ready?" the TARDIS used Jackie's voice to greet the teenager that stepped out.

"Sorry, who are you?" Ben asked, locking the TARDIS behind him.

_*sigh* I'll have to explain this again, won't I? _The TARDIS thought.

_I'd hardly call what you've said thus far an explanation, _Jackie thought back.

"I'm the TARDIS," said Jackie. "I'm hurt that you don't recognize me, Ben."

_Would you stop using my voice?! _Jackie thought angrily. _It's creeping me out._

_Terribly sorry, _the TARDIS smirked. _can't be helped, I'm afraid._

Ben looked back and forth between the woman in front of him and the police box. He was clearly in a state of confusion. Also there was that bit with the crazy-eyed lady knowing his name. It was too early in the morning for this... whatever this was.

The TARDIS tsked. "Let's fetch the doctor, he'll clear this whole thing up."

Jackie suddenly felt the need to giggle. She didn't quite gather why, there wasn't anything particularly funny.

_The doctor always knows what to do, _The TARDIS thought.

Jackie giggled again, this time out loud.

"Hold on," Jackie said slowly, beginning to understand this invasive voice in her head. "You're smitten with the doctor, aren't you?"

"Um, no, actually," Ben looked somewhere between alarmed and peeved. "Why does everyone think I'm gay?"

Jackie and the TARDIS found this quite hilarious.

XxX -End of Chapter VIII: Of Voices and other things that Confuse- XxX


	9. Chapter 9

Good news, everyone! My document app got updated and I can do all this fancy stuff now. Well, I could do it before but the editing was boring and time consuming. I would rather put effort into the content rather than the technics or whatever. Anyway, from now on italics will be used instead of /slashes/ along with other such improvements.

Thanks to everyone who continues to read! It's such fun, doncha know.

XxX -Chapter IX: Of Plot and Other Things that Remain Unresolved- XxX

The pain was like a soup spoon jabbing her in the side. It was not pleasant. The punishments started and ended like this, Josie Femberg had found. The intangible spoon would gradually heat up and gain friends that would spread to poke the rest of her body. It would die down at intervals only to flare up again with more intensity, much like the plot line to an Alex Rider novel. Each peak was more painful than the last, and the quantity and length of the inflictions would vary depending on the severity of the disobedience.

Josie lay behind a rubbish bin on the wharf, not far from The Radiator. Her arms clutched her knees as the final peak resolved. After the searing heat, the December air was welcome.

Josie leaned against the cool brick and whipped some sweat from her brow. The Researcher's punishments were usually followed by a new order. She patiently waited for the familiar purple glow to light up her eyes.

Plum, she pondered. That's what the doctor called it.

Josie hated it. Being told what to do. She had tried running, far away from London. She had taken the rails as far as they would go, masking her skin pigment and the pain of the spoon jabbing as best she could. When she tried to get off the train, her legs couldn't move until the train brought her all the way back.

When The Researchers gave out her first assignment, she resisted. The task was to procure a weapon of Galifrey. She had gone to the location after some prodding with the spoon. She had observed the weapon and the boy who found it. He was living on his own in a dirty lean-to on the edge of the dock yard. He couldn't have been more than ten or eleven. Josie saw him use the weapon, but it wasn't just that. The boy used the device, some sort of dehydration ray, to separate the moisture from useless things and drink it. Without another source of clean water, it must have kept him from most of the disease that infested the filthy place.

Josie had refused to take it from him. It was no use. Atrophy only brought a red glow that blurred her vision. The Researchers had grown impatient with her staling. They decided to take further action.

Josie couldn't remember anything from the time the red came to when the other colors returned. When she was conscious again, the weapon was in her grasp and the boy was at her feet. His back was pressed to the stones that covered the river's edge and his eyes stared out to the opposite shore. A boot mark that fit Josie's was printed on his young cheek.

A tear left her eye at the memory. She flicked it away. From then on she had followed the orders. Anything to prevent the red glow. If she had been conscious, she could have taken the device peacefully. The boy could have lived.

The purple began to glow in her eyes. Josie shuddered. Not a night went by without a nightmare of the purple turning to red. And not a day went by without a dream of being free.

XxX -Chapter IX: Of Plot and Other Things that Remain Unresolved- XxX


	10. Chapter 10

XxX -Chapter X: Of Separation and Other Inevitable Things- XxX

"And then everyone got together, happily ever after, smut scene, done."

"That's a lovely story, K9, but it's not a plan."

"Affirmative."

The doctor continued pacing. "Alright, let's reconstruct the facts."

"Right-o, Sherlock," Sam Cracker sighed as she traced designs on the counter with her finger. The doctor, with all his know-how, had been listing useless information for a painfully long time now. Perceiving this, K9 had told a rather interesting story and everyone in the shop had come to know a bit more about the sexual habits of minks.

"So, six months ago, London gets a curfew for the whole city. Shortly after, Josie Femberg gets abducted and put under Renzoku," the doctor repeated.

"That's that freaky mind control stuff," Brian Jackson pointed out.

"Great use of terminology, chap," the doctor congratulated. Mr. Jackson nodded.

"Which makes her purple," Sam stated.

"A nice plum color, yeah," the doctor continued. "Around the same time, all this technology shows up, a large concentration of it in your shop. How's that?"

"Hm?" Mr. Jackson asked, not paying quite as much attention the fifth time around.

"Galifrey technology," the doctor explained. "Why do you have so much of it?" Mr. Jackson shrugged.

"Hold on," Sam interjected. "Are you accusing us of something, Mr. The Doctor?"

"Oh no," the doctor said, drawing out the syllables comically. "You just seem to have a lot of shiny things for someone so poor. Tell me, does anyone ever buy this stuff? Researchers, perhaps?"

Brian Jackson stood up. "Now see here, Doctor, we're not very purple, are we? Can't you tell we're not one of 'em? Wave around that little blue light or somethin'."

The doctor fixed him with a glare. "It's true The Researcher's followers are clearly marked, but we've yet to see a Researcher, haven't we?"

"Unless I'm looking at one right now," Mr. Jackson observed, staring at the doctor.

The bell chimed and everyone startled. Sam hurriedly went to welcome the two customers, only to be brushed past by the first and awkwardly stepped around by the second.

"Doctor!" The TARDIS exclaimed.

"Who...?" The doctor began before the wind was knocked out of him in a running hug.

"Ah, that's right, I look different now," the TARDIS giggled as she pulled away. "I'm the TARDIS, at your service."

The doctor stuttered in disbelief, then saw Jackie's eyes and knew that it was true. He turned to Ben.

"You brought Sexy back, I see," the doctor observed.

"Oh God," Ben groaned. "That's still not funny." The inhabitants of the shop starred blankly, except K9, who snickered a bit.

The doctor returned his attention to the TARDIS. "How did you find me? Why are you human again? Are you in any danger? You're not hurt, are you?"

The TARDIS laughed. "Slow down, I'm fine! Just had to borrow a human to keep those purple three musketeers away. Temporary setback."

"Might not be," the doctor mused. "A setback, I mean. There are some things that you can only do as a human."

The TARDIS just about died.

"Excuse me," Jackie interjected. "As pleasant as she is, I'd like her out of me."

Three fifths of the males in the room just about died.

"Oh, terribly sorry," the doctor apologized. "We'll get you back to the way you were, erm, both of you."

"And Josie," Sam reminded.

"And Josie," the doctor agreed.

"Um, how would one undo a Renzoku?" Graham inquired.

"Simple process, really," the doctor explained. "If you've got the proper supplies."

"Like what?" Sam asked.

"The Renzoku has a physical transmitter somewhere on the person. Once found and removed, it will stop transmitting if placed inside an eggplant."

"An eggplant," Sam repeated critically.

"An eggplant," the doctor confirmed.

"Good luck finding one of those," Mr. Jackson said. "Importation's been spotty since the last round of Opium Wars."

"There must be one around here somewhere," the doctor guessed. "K9! Could you do a scan of the area for eggplants?"

"Affirmative," K9 responded. "Processing. Processing. Nearest location of Solanum melongena approximately 8.323 km east. Future location of Hammersmith."

"Good boy," said the doctor. "Just curious, where in London are we now?"

"Processing. Processing. Along the south side of the Thames River, between Westminster Bridge and Hungerford Bridge."

"Are we really?" The doctor chuckled,like he had an inside joke with himself. "You lot are in for a treat, say, 137 years from now."

"So," said Sam with an authoritative clap of her hands. "It appears we have two goals: sort out the blue-eyed girl and rescue the purple one. Should we split up?"

The doctor grimaced. "I'm not a big fan of splitting up."

"Why? What's wrong with it?" asked Ben.

"Ever seen Scooby Doo?" K9 replied.

"Or pretty much every horror movie ever?" The TARDIS added.

"We'll split up," Sam decided. "The doctor can take care his TARDIS-girlfriend and I'll go to Hammersmith for some eggplant."

"You lot go on," said Mr. Jackson. "I'll stay put with the shop."

"Right," Sam approved. "Graham, you stay here, too."

Graham blinked. "What? Why?"

Sam retrieved her coat from behind the counter. "I don't want you unnecessarily mixed up in this."

"He can make his own decisions," Ben interjected.

"No," Sam announced with finality. "I'm not losing anyone else."

"I'll stay. It's fine, really," he assured Ben.

Mr. Jackson pointed out it was only a goddamn grocery trip. The doctor granted Sam use of K9, just in case.

"If nothing else, he can carry the groceries," Ben said helpfully. K9 yipped in protest.

The three parts of the company disbanded: Sam and K9 to Hammersmith, the doctor and Jackie/TARDIS to the the box/TARDIS, leaving Ben, Graham, and Brian Jackson at The Radiator.

XxX -End of Chapter X: Of Separation and Other Inevitable Things- XxX

This was a super hard chapter to write! Hope you enjoyed it. If anyone is waiting for yaoi (or mink) smut, you won't find it here. Sorry.


	11. Chapter 11

XxX -Chapter XI: Of Metal and other things that Attract- XxX

Sam stopped off at her place to change into more sensible traveling shoes. On the way to the train station she sold the heels to pay the fare.

"Farewell, my darlings," Sam whispered to the shoes. They slumped on the wooden counter, leaning on each other for support.

The shop keeper, a dark-haired woman in her upper twenties, chucked. "Feel free to come back and buy them," she said helpfully. "Only double the price!"

"I'll keep that in mind, Ms. Bella," Sam smiled. Her sensibly-clad feet clumped out of the tiny shop.

K9 had been observing the tearful goodbye from the display window outside. "You didn't really like those shoes that much," he evaluated.

"Nah," Sam agreed. "Fiscal value is higher on things that are hard to part with. But someday I'll appreciate them. When I can afford it."

The train station was somewhat of a hassle. There was construction being done; a new sort of underground line was going in. A bunch of rubbish in Sam's point of view. What was there to do under the ground that couldn't be done above it?

No one made a fuss over K9. Moving metal was becoming more and more common these days, doncha know. In fact, the underground lines would run on some wondrous power of the future: electricity. What it was, no one knew, but it was the way of the future; all the advertisements said so.

The train platform was steamy. It smelled better than tobacco smoke, but still invoked the mild need to take a shower. Inside the train was brighter, but smelled about the same.

"It's too bad the underground isn't done yet," K9 said.

"Why's that?" Sam humored K9. She handed her ticket to the ticket master and briefly explained that K9 was considered luggage and therefore didn't require a ticket.

"I was going to ask you if we were riding top or bottom," K9 snickered loudly. The ticket master gave a big sniff as he moved on to the next set of passengers.

Sam sighed. "I will destroy everything you hold dear," she informed him.

K9 was genuinely shocked. "Oh God! Why would you say that?!"

Josie used to say that as a catchphrase, much to Sam's bewilderment.

Sam shrugged.

XxX

The doctor dropped to almost his knees and inspected the brickwork next to where the TARDIS had been. On went his glasses and his thinking squint. He felt the scratchy brick and finally gave it an experimental lick.

"I swear, it was right here!" Jackie the TARDIS insisted. "I mean, I was right here. Oh, I don't know!" Jackie's shoulders slumped in defeat.

"I believe you," the doctor assured her.

Jackie didn't respond. The doctor lifted her chin so she would meet his eyes.

"I promise you this, Jackie Claymore," he said earnestly. "I will sort this out. You are going to be fine, I will make certain of it." Jackie nodded.

"Oi!" The doctor called to someone behind Jackie. She whipped around in alarm to see who it was. "How long are you going to muck about over there?" The doctor inquired.

"You caught me, Doctor!" said a short woman who sounded anything but displeased.

Jackie wondered if they knew each other, the doctor and this lady. Her dark hair was in a skillful up do with just the right strands falling out to be alluring. Her wine-colored dress and overcoat accented her curves. Her heels were so tall and thin that they made Jackie dizzy just looking at them.

"Anyone wearing that much magnetic field would be easy to spot," the doctor said dismissively.

"I must be loosing my touch," the woman concluded with a bite to her fingernail.

"Magnetic field?" Jackie inquired.

"Yeah," explained the doctor, "used to repel bullets and other things that-"

"It can also be used to attract," the woman smiled.

Jackie didn't like the how this conversation was going. She hoped that unlike music, it could go in more than one direction, big sniff.

"I'm sorry," Jackie stepped in, "who are you?"

The woman smiled with painted lips. "Nina," she said with a wink.

XxX -End of Chapter XI: Of Metal and other things that Attract- XxX


	12. Chapter 12

I know everyone wants more sexy Nina. You get this instead.

XxX -Chapter XII: Of Chronology and other things the Author Disregards- XxX

Daniel Jesus finally gathered himself enough to do what he came to do. To him, the time since meeting that Ben Cartographer foreigner had seemed only minutes, but everything moves faster when one is in a state of anticipation. He was at the window of the girl of his dreams, Sarah Hime. He had a pebble to throw, but he wanted to make sure his words were just so before he proceeded.

A glance back at the garden wall revealed the sun was well on its way to lighting the sky.

It's pretty, but it ain't got nothing on mai sweetheart, Daniel thought poetically. Actually, they weren't quite together yet, but Miss Sarah came to his family's ski shop all the time, so she must have something like love towards him, right?

Even if she did love him (Daniel's heart thrummed a heavy baseline at the idea), a relationship between them might be out of reach. She was a noble, a privileged girl of much higher class than a lowly shop keeper's son. Their love was forbidden, and this situation wasn't a play on Romeo and Juliet at all. No sir.

In any case, he was just going to go for it. He'd never know if she returned his feelings if he didn't confess his own. He had learned at least that much from his intensive studies of shoujo manga.

The pebble in Daniel's hand felt like it weighed as much as a horse and yet like nothing at all. He wound his arm back and hurled the pebble with the intention for it to tap lightly at the window.

It sailed right through, shattering the glass. Daniel flinched, his emotions flashing from horror to despair. A pair of fair hands lifted up the now useless pane. They were followed by a head of brunette, searching this way and that to find the offender.

"I meant to throw it but soft-!" Daniel cursed to himself.

The girl spotted him by the leafy hedges. "What, sir, were you thinking? 'I wonder if yonder window breaks?'"

"I'm terribly sorry about that, I swear I'll-"

She must have recognized him then, for the brunette girl squeaked and slammed the pane back down. A few more shards fell, scattering along the eves and to the grass where Daniel stood.

"Sarah?" he asked desperately. This was not how he had wanted the encounter to go at all.

Sarah Hime returned to the window, now wearing a wide-brimmed hat that cast a shadow on her face. She was rarely seen in public without it.

"You must go," she stated.

"I can not," Daniel claimed. "I've wronged you, let me repay you."

"It doesn't matter to me," Sarah gave a laugh, but it was fake. "I have servants and money; I know you are not as fortunate. Go now, please!"

"If you do not wish to see me, I understand," Daniel said unwaveringly. "But let me impose on you a few moments more. Even if the situation isn't... ideal; I have to tell you something. After I have delivered this message from my heart, then, if you bid me leave, I shall go."

Silence came from Sarah's window. Daniel breathed deeply and proceeded to coax out the words he thought he had memorized to convey his love.

"I am not one to give my heart so soon,  
Nor to be swayed by fairness and fall fast.  
Yet your manner and your smile has took hold  
Upon my thoughts, now filled with only you.  
I thank the stars for this your gift and curse.  
Your charm illness has brought upon my soul.

"What can I give that you do not possess?  
Surely not a reason to accept me.  
Promise is all the gift I can afford,  
To sway you dear, to grant your darling smile."

Daniel had prepared a second sonnet, but couldn't remember it for the life of him. If only her attention hasn't been so complete, or if her hair hadn't fallen in that breath taking way, or her sighs alighted his ears with fluttering brilliance. The most painful reaction was her delay to speak, to confirm or crush his flickering hope that she might feel the same.

Sarah held one gloved hand to her face, completely shocked at the words that Daniel had spoken. She hadn't imagined anyone had felt any sort of romantic feelings for her, especially not ones of this degree and forethought.

Her hesitation caused Daniel to panic. Thinking that her silence was rejection or disgust, he stuttered an apology and began to retreat. Sarah didn't know what to do.

"Wait!" She called, leaning out the window. A morning gust of wind and her momentum knocked the bulky hat off her brunette head.

Daniel turned back to see her face, no longer in shadow. It was a beautiful face, one he had seen many times before, but now there was something different about it.

Sarah Hime's skin was the hue of a ripe plum.

XxX -End of Chapter XII: Of Chronology and other things the Author Disregards- XxX


	13. Chapter 13

**The purpose of this story was to be a Gren fanfic, but it really isn't even about them anymore. I'm also reaching a dead end with chapter titles, so I'm leaving them out** **from now on.**

-Chapter XIII-

The same porter that punched Sam's ticket proceeded down the aisle of the scantly populated train. The next passenger was a few seats down on the opposite side, at the perfect angle to keep watch on someone who might be seated in Sam and K9's location. The porter shrugged and punched cloaked figure's ticket.

The figure wore gloves and a wide-brimmed hat. The disguise was so complete (and conspicuous) that the porter couldn't tell if the passenger was a man or woman. The porter would have asked the figure for some ID or even to remove his/her hat briefly, but he had better things to do. Namely that lady-porter in the back.

Josie Femberg almost wished he would have discovered her. Maybe if she was apprehended she wouldn't have to follow the order? It was a nice thought. A nice, far-fetched thought. She knew she would have to go through with it, but she would do her best to botch it.

Until the signal came, she would keep vigil over Sam Cracker. Her friend (they were still friends, right?) sat with her legs crossed at the ankles, her hands folded in her lap, and her face turned to the window to hide a smile. K9 had just told a really stupid joke.

A whistle sounded and the train lurched forward. It started much slower than the new electrical ones would, the train wheels trudged along at a walking pace. Looking through the windows on Sam's side, the platform side, Josie saw a thin boy with a bird cage sprinting to the train. A girl with long, brown hair followed at a casual pace, laughing light heartedly at the boy's haste. Josie was an excellent reader of lips was able to distinguish the girl's words.

Girl: Relax! We could walk around the entire station and still make it back in time.

Boy: The train's leaving now. Are you blind?!

Girl: Pfft, that old thing?

Boy: Yesthatoldthing!

Both of them reached the door that led into Josie, Sam and K9's car. The boy grabbed the handle and hopped onto the mini platform, careful not to cause any discomfort to his bird. He reached back a hand to the girl to find she had stopped walking.

Boy: What are you doing?! Hurry up!

The girl smiled and gave a weak little wave. If she said anything, Josie couldn't tell what it was. The train gained speed and left her in a cloud of steam.

Sam, who had been facing away from this silent scene, spun around when the door opened with a violent crash. The boy stomped in with a stormy expression.

"Oi!" Sam shouted. "You a train jacker or something? Get on before it leaves like a normal person."

"I'm no train jacker," the boy stood in front of Sam's seat. "I'm an ornithologist."

"Aren't you a little young to be an ornithologist?" Sam asked.

The boy was undeterred. "Yes, yes I am."

-End of Chapter XII-


	14. Chapter 14

**Here's the spark notes for Josie's situation: If an order is given...  
-she has some time to complete it in her own way.  
-if she does not complete it in a timely manner, she blacks out and the Researchers complete the order as they see fit, usually with unnesisary violence.  
-if it becomes impossible to complete the order, spoon-stabbing punishments are dealt to the spleen. Yeah.**

For Josie, the signal came all too soon. A plain black box with no hinges and a single green light activated in her tightly clutched palm. It resembled the Internet, but was not an Earthly invention. It was another galaxy's equivalent of a pager.

She calmly got up from her seat and moved to the front end of the car. The porter chose this time to make an entrance. He saw Josie's advance, causing him to pause in the doorstep of the adjoining car.

"I'm sorry, sir," he was still unaware that Josie was, in fact, a woman. "Passengers are not allowed into other cars at this ti-"

Josie casually kicked him in the chest, sending him stumbling back out the door. She followed, her footsteps echoing with determination and purpose.

"W-what are you- who are you...?" The porter stuttered as he clutched the rail of the next car. The scenery was passing by much to fast for his liking.

"I don't think that's what you should be concerned about right now," Josie advised him, expertly keeping her balance as she crossed the platform that connected the two cars. The porter fumbled behind him for the handle to open the door to the next car.

The elegant white gloves she was wearing concealed the metallic device that ran the length of both Josie's arms. The device enhanced the strength she already possessed, equalling distribution and increasing leverage. Hoisting the porter up by the shirt collar was an easy feat.

"I suggest rolling when you hit the ground," Josie said as a farewell. The wind had blown away her hat, revealing her face to the terrified man. She gave a weak smile and tossed him off the platform. If he was smart and didn't flail around too much, he'd probably survive.

By this time the passengers in both cars had sensed the commotion. Sam's face, among others, was pressed to the windows looking out on the scene. The ornithologist was trying to wrench the door open, his bird squawked silently behind the glass of the train car.

Josie turned away from her audience, momentarily wishing her hair was longer to hide her face. She retrieved a foreign object from the folds of her coat. It looked similar to a spatula, but the end that would have been flipping pancakes was triangular instead of square. She aimed the object at the center of the platform.

The ornithologist succeeded in opening the door. Josie looked up in confusion. She had sealed that door with a sonic level of five, there was no way it could be opened by ordinary means!

K9 rolled defiantly onto the platform. He charged Josie's feet, rambling something mildly heroic.

_K9, you bitch! _Josie cursed at him mentally. _You're not supposed to open the doors, freak!_ She stumbled to where the porter had been moments before. More horrifying than the prospect of falling of a moving train was the growing feeling of a black out framing the edges of her vision.

Sam had pushed the ornithologist out of the way and was stepping cautiously out of the train car. She gripped the door frame with white knuckles, taking uncertain steps towards Josie. The expression on her face was unreadable.

"Stay back!" Josie warned. Her head was throbbing; she didn't have long before she wouldn't be in control.

K9 rolled forward again, growling. The click-clunking of the train wheels on the rails became an increasing painful sound for Josie. She could see Sam's lips moving, but she was too far gone to read them.

"Everyone shut up!" Josie cried in desperation. She squeezed her eyes shut. She was going to have to go for it. The longer she waited, the less she could guarantee the safety of everyone on the train. She raised her arm, repositioning the spatula.

K9 flipped out. He knew what Josie was doing. He didn't know if he could stop her, but he knew he had to try.

Josie rocked back on her heels once, took a step toward Sam's car, and leaped over K9, activating the spatula mid-flight.

Several noises happened at once. The clack of Josie's shoes as she touched down on Sam's side of the platform. A creak of metal as the platform split apart. The yelp of a wounded, mechanical puppy who had strayed into the path of a deadly spatula.

Sam gasped. The spatula had shot out a thin, fishing-wire-like beam that had cut through K9 and the platform like butter. It happened quickly, a glint and then nothing. What she saw next was far slower. The front car of the train continued down the track, leaving its partner car to lose momentum and fall behind. The separating of the two platform halves revealed a diagonal slice in K9. His back half fell into the gap between the platforms to be crushed by the wheels of the train car rolling to a stop. His front rolled farther onto the opposite platform half, still pursuing Josie after death. The lights of his eyes lost power and faded to nothing.

"JESSE!" Sam screamed.

"Sam..." Josie whispered. Her eyes rolled back and she passed out on the threshold of the train car at Sam's feet.

"Josie?" The ornithologist asked, recognizing the purple-faced girl.

"Jesse," Sam sobbed again as she sunk to her knees. "Why did you have to be the hero? Graham worked so hard to repair you. Now you're not even a can opener."


	15. Chapter 15

The clunk-clacks of the passenger car slowed in tempo. The front of the train had left them behind. The two women lay in various states of consciousness on the carpeted floor. The ornithologist stood by one of the seats, consoling his nervous bird.

An amplified thump resounded from the ceiling. The bird squawked in alarm. A leather-gloved hand became visible through one of the top windows briefly before a fine brown powder was strewn across the glass. The hand emerged again to punch the window. Every part of the train that had come in contact with the strange powder fell away. Bits of glass hit the floor of the car, wobbling like jell-o.

The black gloved hand gripped what remained of the top window sill, and it brought a friend. A pair of kick-ass boots shot through the dispersing smoke. A figure that was dressed much like Hawkeye (the black leather version, not the purple one) swung into the train car on a gust of chilling winter wind.

The bird in the ornithologist's cage was going crazy. The man himself was staring wide-eyed at the new comer's fantastical display of SCIENCE.

Sam jostled Josie awake. The purple girl sat up slowly and massaged her temples. They hurt like the Dickens.

The black-clad man marched over to the girls, his footsteps not making a sound despite their ridiculous size. Sam glared at him from the floor where she shielded Josie as best she could. The man wore a thin black mask over his eyes and a small portion of his face, making virtuously all of his facial features unidentifiable.

"Who are you?" Sam snarled.

"I'm not one for introductions," the man winced. It was true, seemingly everyone who learned his name inevitably fell in love with him. Emotions made him squeamish, so he avoided the event as much as possible.

Josie blinked her bleary eyes open. Her head still pounded from her near slip into a Renzoku trance.

Sam continued her interrogation. "Are you a Researcher?"

The man grinned a blinding smile. "Very astute. Yes, I am one of them."

"A researcher?" asked the ornithologist, suddenly interested. "Are you a colleague of mine? My name is Dr. Nathan Aviator." He walked over briskly and offered his hand.

The man shied back from the physical contact, putting both hands into his pockets instead. "I think you misunderstand the situation, sir. I'm not a colleague. I'm here to kill you." One of his hands reemerged, gripping a pistol.

Josie was not amused. "Put that away before you hurt yourself, Ben."

"God dammit, Josie," Ben said, dropping his arm to his side. "You blew my cover."

"You were one of them?!" Sam stood. "Is the doctor in on this, too? I can't believe I fell for this!" She ripped the thin mask off The Researcher.

"Ouch!" Ben complained. There was no mistaking it, that was his face alright. "Hold on, the doctor? He's here?"

"Stop playing dumb," Sam advised him. "No one can possibly be that oblivious."

"What are you talking about? I can't keep track of what sector of the universe he's in all the time! I have evil deeds to do and stuff."

"Don't be a Nina, Sam," Josie chuckled. "He's my superior. We have someone else keeping tabs on the doctor."

"But I saw them together not two hours ago," Sam explained.

"That's impossible," Ben said. "I've never met the man in my life."

"I'd like to remind everyone that I have not the foggiest idea what is going on," Nathan interjected.

"Let's sort this out elsewhere," Ben made the executive decision. He shot the floor of the train car. Purple electricity sparked from the bullet hole, gaining range and intensity as they watched.

"What are you doing," Josie monotoned.

""Following the plan," Ben said lightly. "Good job on your end, by the way. Taking out the pooch was a nice bonus. He would have made a good umbrella stand, though."

The purple lightning spread further. The color was becoming more and more red, then orange, and through the rest of the color wheel until it got to that stupid indigo color. What a poser of a color. A color solely created for those who can't decide if their favorite color is blue or purple. The lightning thought so, too, so it skipped that obnoxious shade of BLUE and went back to purple.

Ben slid a panel off the gun, revealing a button the same color as the electricity.

Josie's tone of voice became desperate. "You don't have to do this."

Ben shrugged. "And here. We. Go." He pressed the button.

"NO!" Josie screamed. Nathan clutched his bird cage to his chest. The whole car started to glow, cycling through the color wheel once again. Those who do not know the color wheel in its entirety should go back to grade school. Once it got back to the beginning, everything glowed white. There was a pop and everything returned to its original color.

"Stop being such a drama queen of England, Josie," Ben told her. He replaced the mask on his face and stepped casually out through the large crater he had blasted in the car's side. "It's just a mass transport gun."

"Transport to where?" Sam asked Josie.

"The Researcher's base," Josie shook her head. "God I hate it here. We're surrounded by idiots."

"What a bunch of bastards," Ben agreed from outside.

**XxX**

**Haha Noelle got to read this before any of you did!**


	16. Chapter 16

"Doctor, do you know her?" Jackie asked warily.

"No," he replied quickly. He then winced, made a few awkward faces in rapid succession, and spoke again. "Well, sort of. Possibly. Not at all. I choose to remain silent."

Jackie raised an eyebrow.

"You are _so_ slow," Sexy Nina declared, breathy and over exasperated. "Don't you want me to show you a good time?"

"I don't recall accepting such an offer," said the doctor.

"We're not interested," Jackie told Nina coldly. She began pushing the doctor away from the short seductress.

"Are you sure?" Nina called after them. "There's this nice little spot I know about, cozy, private. I know you're a man of learning, doctor... I wouldn't suppose you'd like to hear about my own research?"

The doctor stopped in his tracks. "Research?" He marched right back to the woman in the low cut red dress. "What do you know about The Researchers?"

Nina smiled. "Much more than you, I'd wagger. Come with me." She swiveled around on her sharp stilettos. Her hips swayed as she walked away, expectantly looking over he shoulder for them to follow. The doctor made a move to do just that.

"What are you doing?!" Jackie whispered. She clutched his arm to hold him back. "She's a hoe!"

"A classy hoe," the doctor defended.

"But-" Jackie protested.

"Doctor!" Nina called from farther ahead. Well groomed, red nails placed on her hips in impatience.

"Don't worry," the doctor tapped Jackie on the nose with reassuring playfulness. "We'll get her information and then depart like a student from history class."

"Slow and groggy?" Jackie questioned, still unconvinced.

"Hmm, I suppose that is a sort of rubbish comparison," the doctor admitted. "No matter! The point is we have better things to do than prostitutes, no matter how classy."

XxX

Ben Cartographer, the first one, not the leather-clad one, slumped against a wall in boredom. "No wonder we haven't been part of the story line in so long," he remarked. "There's nothing happening here."

Metallic clinks resounded from a table behind him where Graham fiddled with some tiny gadgets he was working on.

"What are we, damsels in distress?" Ben continued his rant. "All the strong, female characters get to go adventuring. I'm the doctor's companion this season! Where's my adventure?"

"This is the 19th century," Graham reminded him. "We don't have strong female characters. So the difference adds intrigue."

"Hrmf."

Graham sighed. "You really should get up on your history if you want to blend in here."

"I'm from America, we don't _do_ other nation's histories," Ben explained.

"America? This is worse than I thought," Graham murmured.

"It's pronounced 'Murica, actually," Brian pointed out helpfully from the front counter.

"The first thing to do is to make you fit in visually," Graham reasoned. "You'll need new clothes."

"No," Ben backed away. "You are not doing some gay make over on me."

To be continued!1!


	17. Chapter 17

**Alright guys, here's your fabulous, gay makeover. **

"I'm not wearing that."

"I believe negotiations have closed," said Graham. He held a vest and matching pair of trousers out to Ben.

"No," Ben repeated. He backed away from the prospect of removing his sweatshirt like it was a chemistry final.

"Why not?" Graham asked simply.

"Look at them!" Ben gestured to the garments. "The waist is so high my _grandpa_ would laugh."

"My grandfather wore a cod piece," Graham admitted emotionlessly. "I don't think you have any right to complain."

"How about I just put on a top hat and call it good?" Ben suggested. He glanced around the room, looking for a possible exit.

Graham maintained his strategic location: blocking the door. The Radiator had a second room in the back of the shop. It was set aside for clothes and the like. The shoes and garments that Sam didn't sell to Ms. Bella ended up back here.

"I'd even consider the goggles," Ben offered. "Just don't make me wear anything that fancy!"

"Don't they have nice clothes in America?" Graham was seriously confused on why this was so difficult. "Or special occasions of any kind?"

"Of corse we do," Ben crossed his arms. "People wear tuxes and stuff, sometimes to school if they have presentations. And there are formal dances. I just... choose not to go to them."

Graham chuckled. "You mean you've never been to a ball?"

"Wot." Was this Cinderella or something?

"A formal dance," Graham clarified. "You've never been to a formal dance?"

"Nope."

"Let's change that." Graham was suddenly very motivated. "Strip," he commanded.

"That escalated quickly," Ben commented. He made a break for the door. Graham reacted immediately, lifting his arm to clothes-line Ben, knocking the wind out of him. Ben staggered back, temporarily befuddled by the strength of the other, especially since he was so skinny. Graham took this opportunity to kick Ben's legs out from under him, causing him to fall backward to the hardwood floor. Graham followed, placing a knee on Ben's chest to keep him there.

When it came to dancing, Graham meant business.

"Stop struggling, I'm trying to help you," Graham said.

"I don't need help!" Ben insisted.

Graham sighed. He got off of Ben and sat beside him instead.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I have a problem with being too assertive."

"I feel bullied," Ben agreed.

"Let me take you to a dance to make it up to you," Graham replied.

Ben narrowed his eyes. "I'm not falling for that."

_Would you fall for me instead?_ Graham thought.

Ben picked up his glasses, which had fallen during the scuffle, and returned them to his face. He didn't, however, make a move toward the door, now vacant of blockades.

There was a beat of awkward silence.

"I have a condition," said Ben suddenly. "Someone once told me (actually quite a few someones, and rather forcibly) that I could get any girl I wanted if I wore a tie. I'll wear anything that's not a tie."

Graham gave one of his signature grins. He held out the vest ensemble again.

Ben snatched it with a rargle. "I'm not making any promises about dancing, okay?"

"That's fine," Graham was still smiling.

Ben gave him a wary look. "You say that like I don't have any choice in the matter."

_It's true,_ thought the author, _he really doesn't._

Graham shrugged.


	18. Chapter 18

**Gren makeover, part 2**

The Radiator was a rag-tag shop. A grab bag. In the front room, Graham's gadgets attracted a majority of the customers. Scattered in with mechanisms were mismatched trinkets. The clothes in the second room were in varying condition and style. Graham knew his way around the shop well, and he already had a few outfits queued up for Ben to try.

An unrecognizable figure stepped out of the changing cubicle. High-waisted, black dress pants replaced his jeans; tall, tan boots displaced his 21st century street shoes, and a crisp, white button-down outshone the Mustang-green sweat shirt hanging on his arm.

"That base will work," Graham decided. He had already explained to Ben that Steampunk Victorian era clothing was all about a simple palette combined with intricate features, such as the mandatory goggles. Now that he had on the basics, the creative part of the makeover could start.

"Try this first," Graham suggested. Ben begrudgingly set down his armful of modern clothes and accepted a hanger with a vest, belt, and bow tie.

"Doesn't this count as a tie?" Ben gestured to the bow tie skeptically.

Graham shook his head quickly. "It's much cooler than that. I can tie it for you if you'd like?"

"No way," Ben's eyes darted around the room, wary of cameras hidden by fangirls. "I'm a man, I can do it myself."

Graham raised an eyebrow.

Normally Ben would have employed the services of the Internet to help him with his bow tie fastening dilemma, but he didn't want this embarrassing experience to take too long. Although the doctor had boosted his smart phone's coverage plan, the connection was insufferably slow in the centuries before the web's creation. He handed the strip of clothe to the quiet inventor.

Instead of tying it around Ben's neck, Graham tied it around his own. He then loosened it, raised it over his head and gave it back. This way the moe was decreased to a level that could be tolerated by even the most anti-yaoi reader.

"Genius," Ben remarked while re-tightening the bow tie. "You know, my favorite thing about you is your thrifty-ness."

Graham hoped that was a compliment.

"You can make the best of whatever your situation," Ben explained, sensing the other's confusion.

"Ah," said Graham. "Thank you. My favorite thing about you... is your sweat shirt."

"That's very kind of you," Ben smiled. He told Graham about the wonders of cross country.

"So in your time," Graham reiterated. "People run miles on end... for fun?"

"Yep. And to feel manly whilst shirtless."

Such activities were unheard of in Graham's time. Or at least that's what the author assumed, having done minimal research of this era herself.

"That could be... enjoyable," Graham decided at last.

"You should join!" Ben was suddenly excited. "It's really boring to run by yourself. And you'll get good super fast." He looked at Graham expectantly.

"Sure," said Graham. He had no idea if this promise was reasonable, but any chance to spend more time with this strange traveller was too tempting an offer to turn down. "I might be a few centuries late to practices, though."

Ben was quiet for a moment, realizing the now obvious barrier.

Graham clapped his hands together once, signifying a change in subject. It was at about half the volume of a standard clap, but it sufficed.

"Once you've got this on, we can start with the accessories," he said cheerily, ignoring the foreboding sense of loss that festered in the back of his mind. He was going to enjoy what was happening now, no matter what would become of the two of them later.

"Only the best goggles are acceptable," Ben agreed. He slid his arms into the vest and began buttoning up the front. He had forgotten to tuck in his shirt, however, and looked slightly ridiculous.

After a few hours of different bow ties, hats, and pocket watches, a set of goggles caught Ben's eye.

"Those ones," he said decisively.

Graham picked them up and smiled fondly at them. Like most of the practical goggles in the shop, they were one of his creations. One of his firsts, actually. It had taken his many attempts to attach the brown leather to the brass frames, but the result had been worth the effort. Since then he had made more visually appealing goggles, so this pair had been passed over by previous shoppers eyes.

"I like this part," Ben said, fiddling with a monocle-like lens on the side. It swiveled back and forth, in and out of the wearer's sight.

"Thanks," Graham whispered, letting Ben remove the goggles from his hands.

"You made these?" Ben asked. He reassessed the contraption and looked back to Graham. "Actually I'm not that surprised. Stop being so cool."

Graham blushed.

Ben coughed awkwardly. "Alright, enough of this." He walked back to the changing cubicle. "I've got enough patience for one more outfit... thing."

"Right," Graham began putting away the rejected accessories. "It's already in there, the garment bag on the ground. Just throw your other clothes over so I can hang them up."

Ben gave him a thumbs up and closed the cubicle door behind him. Not too long after, he slumped the Steampunk outfit halfway over the top of the door. Graham picked them up and hung them on their correct hangers, as promised. He smiled mischievously when he heard Ben open last garment bag. There was a definite pause.

"Graham," Ben said, keeping his voice mostly even. "What. Is. This."

Graham couldn't help but snicker. "Don't you like it?"

"I'm not putting this on," Ben told him.

"Fine. Come out here and get your other clothes, then," Graham was audibly leased with himself. And to Ben, it was extremely annoying.

After a tense minutes of Graham waiting and Ben muttering, the cubicle door opened. Graham kept his composer, but he was rolling on the floor in vista rifle laughter on the inside.

Ben was in a dress. A fluttery, frilly dress.

"That's really your color," Graham complimented him seriously.

"Shut up," Ben advised him. He stomped over to the table with his clothes, but Graham snatched them up before he could retrieve them.

"Nope," Graham said. "Spin first."

Ben huffed and shuffled around once. When Graham motioned for him to turn again, he sighed and twirled with his arms outstretched daintily.

Graham was almost crying from the effort of not laughing. He decided to return the masculine clothes before he hurt himself.

**I REGRET NOTHING.**


	19. Chapter 19

"Here we are." Nina ushered them into a dark, out-of-the-way building. It wasn't a shed or a warehouse or anything sketchy like that. It was rather decent, actually. It just lacked proper lighting. That's all.

"Nice," commented the doctor, observing the decorated double doors and vaulted ceiling.

Nina smiled appreciatively. "If I couldn't do this much with my workplace, what kind of classy hoe would I be?"

Jackie walked in last, mock-mimicking Nina's mannerisms And mouthing her ridiculous phrases. Her actions went unnoticed while both Nina and the doctor had their backs turned, walking ahead of her.

"Let's get to the point," the doctor advised, his pace slowing. "I'm in the middle of saving alternate universe London, I assume that's what this is, and I'd like to wrap it up as quickly as possible. Less chance of plot twists and character death that way."

Nina pouted, "You're hardly through the door and you're already leaving? How rude."

"I've never been one to conform to the concept of time," the doctor admitted.

"A bunch of wibbly-wobbly," Jackie agreed.

"So," the doctor continued, rubbing his hands together. "How do you want this information exchange to work? You're not giving out intelligence for free, I reckon."

"Not at all," Nina laughed lightly. "Although it's not information I want in return."

"I don't like where this is going," the doctor replied. "What are your demands?"

"Hmm, not as eager as I'd hoped," Nina tapped a painted nail to her bottom lip, scrutinizing the situation. "I only have one condition."

"Alright," the doctor motioned for her to go on.

"I want..." Nina trailed a hand over the patterned wall paper, tracing waves and currents in it that weren't there.

Jackie's levels of distrust were rising by the second. "Spit it out," she gritted her teeth.

Nina smiled like she was about to win a hand of poker. Either with a royal flush or a total bluff; it was impossible to tell.

"I want to be the vessel for the soul of the TARDIS," she said at last. Jackie choked.

"That's not a valid condition," the doctor said quickly, stepping protectively in front of Jackie as he did so.

"Why not?" Nina stopped walking. "It's not like it matters who it is. You've only known this vessel for a couple of hours!" Her tone was slightly irritated, but still dripping with allure.

Jackie stiffened. _She's right. What loyalty does the doctor have to me? _Her heart tightened painfully.

"Don't call her that," the doctor commanded. "She's not just a vessel, she has a name."

Nina scoffed. "Isn't she the one that wanted it out of her?"

_Right again,_ Jackie thought with discomfort. The ends of her fingers tingled; she wanted desperately to grab hold of something. Her hand twitched toward the doctor's, but she quickly let it fall back to her side.

The doctor recovered from his momentary loss of words. "If that's what she still wants..." He glanced behind him at Jackie.

The TARDIS inside her was edgy as well. She had grown genuinely fond of Jackie in their short time together. However, if the doctor needed this information, the TARDIS would do whatever he needed her to.

_Once I'm no longer the TARDIS,_ Jackie thought, _the doctor won't have any reason to stay with me. But this is what I wanted; it'd be selfish of me to say no this late in the game._

"I'll do it," Jackie announced. The doctor looked concerned. Nina beamed.

"Lovely," Nina's heels clicked over the waxed floor. Through Jackie's ears the sound was scratchy and painful.

"Hold on," the doctor put out his hand to stop Nina's advance. "Information first."

Nina's glamorous face fell. "Very well," she crossed her arms. "I'll tell you what I know. There's a handful of aliens gathering lost technology from around London. There's a high concentration of it here, for some reason. Probably connected to the creation of an alternate universe or whatever you said."

"We already knew that. You're going to have to do a lot better to get your end of the deal," the doctor informed her.

"Calm down, I'm getting there," Nina waved a hand dismissively. "There are seven Researchers that I know of. They're identical to humans now, but they weren't like that in their original form. They upload their memories and overall intelligence to a device, then insert it into clones of the life forms they are trying to infiltrate."

"They're all clones?" asked the doctor.

"More or less," Nina confirmed.

"So a Researcher and a normal human could be their own brother?" the doctor pestered.

"I don't see how that's relevant," Nina argued.

"Oh, and we think this is set in the past," Jackie said, wanting to contribute, "but it's actually the future!"

"No, that's absurd," Nina inspected her nails.

"Technology can't be all they're after," the doctor reasoned.

"Correct," Nina resumed her explanation. "They want you, Doctor. They're obsessed with Gallifrey. As for their main plot, I'm afraid I can't tell you."

"One more question," the doctor interjected. "Well, two actually. Where is their base of operations?"

"Hammersmith."

"That's where Sam and K9 are headed," Jackie whispered.

"Alright," the doctor continued, taking an experimental step back. "Next, how do you fit into all of this?"

Nina grinned deviously. "So you _are_ interested in me, Doctor. I'm honored."

The doctor cringed. "Never mind, let's get to fulfilling our end of the deal, shall we?" Jackie's heart sank.

"Yes, let's," Nina smiled, taking a few steps forward. Her heels were still making that awful noise.

"Um," the doctor said, eyeing her advance warily. "How do we do that, exactly?"

"Oh, it's a bunch of science, really," Nina shrugged. She was approaching even more briskly. "I wouldn't want to bore you... all you need to know is that to release the soul of the TARDIS, you must first destroy the temple."

"Destroy the temple, as in _kill_ me?" Jackie asked, incredulous.

"That wasn't part of the deal!" the doctor yelled. Both Jackie and the doctor were backing away more frantically.

"Things don't always go according to plan, do they darling?" Nina smiled somewhat sadly. Skillfully, she reached down to her shoes and pulled the pointed heel right out of them. They instantly became a pretty sic pair of boots with flat soles.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" The doctor shouted. "Nina, you don't have to do this. Your assassin days are over. You don't have to kill anymore!" Jackie had made her way back to the doors they had entered through, only to find them locked.

"Oh, but then I'd have gotten all dressed up for nothing." Nina fake-pouted. She held a heel in each hand, both sharp as knives.

"Doctor!" Jackie called, searching for an alternative exit. "I could use a little sonicing right now!"

"Who set you up to this?!" the doctor questioned, his volume raising despite his efforts to stay calm. "WHO DO YOU WORK FOR?!"

The sexy assassin threw her head back and laughed. "The Researchers. Obviously."

"Doctor..." Jackie called out to him again.

"Kind of... busy..." the doctor frantically scanned the room. The chances of finding something useful in a location picked by the killer herself was somewhat unlikely. Luckily, he was the doctor, and he made a living off of unlikely situations.

"I don't usually say this," Nina's eyes focused on the doctor with deadly determination, "but enough fooling around." She charged, arms back, anime-style.

The doctor dodged to the left, but Nina anticipated it and dragged one of the heel-knives across his right arm. He yelped in pain. The cut was deep, Nina really wasn't messing around.

The red dress fluttered around her as she swept in for another attack. The doctor stumbled back, unprepared for another assault. The heel-blades were aimed at both his hearts with accuracy that he was sure would not miss.

A flash of blue blocked his vision. The twin blades clattered to the ground. Jackie stood panting in front of a startled Nina, temporarily winded from her sprint to block the attack with a high kick.

"You're really bad at this fighting business, aren't you?" she asked the doctor, never taking her eyes off of Nina.

The doctor was flabbergasted. "You can do that... without weapons?"

Jackie smiled. "Unarmed and dangerous; that's me." She repositioned her stance, her TARDIS blue dress shifting with her and her eyes practically crackling with energy.

Nina's expression resembled a snarl. She reached up to her neat up do and pulled out a pin. Her straight brown hair fell to her shoulders. At first Jackie assumed the pin was another concealed weapon, but Nina simply flicked it aside and got into her own fighting stance.

"Pity I'll have to bruise that face of yours," Nina said lightly.

"Pity I don't feel the same way about you," Jackie returned the banter.

Nina jabbed at Jackie's neck. Jackie ducked, then delivered a kick to Nina's side. Nina stepped back, crouched, and kicked Jackie's feet out from under her. Jackie fell onto her back, the blue fabric of her dress lagging behind her. She was momentarily grateful that it was cold and she had worn thick tights.

Nina calmly waited for Jackie to get to her feet. "I expect a better fight from someone with such strong words," she said, smoothing her dress. She didn't notice the doctor get up and sneak to the door to sonic it open.

"Don't lower your guard. Neither of us have had a facial hit yet," Jackie warned her.

"I've always wanted to bitch slap someone," Nina said truthfully.

Jackie yelled and stuck Nina's stomach with her fist. She didn't go through karate to the black belt level to get slapped by a slut. Even if she was a classy one.

Nina countered with a kick and another jab. Both found their mark, but left her open for Jackie's next move. A smack resounded through the hollow, dark room as Jackie's palm connected with Nina's face. Nina staggered back, clutching her bloody nose.

"That's how to bitch slap," said Jackie.

"Ready when you are, Sexy!" the doctor call from the direction of the entrance. Jackie gave Nina a wink and raced to her doctor, who was looking at her quite amazed.

"I might have to offer you a permanent spot on the team," the doctor greeted her.

Jackie smiled, "I'd like that." The doctor offered her a hand and the two escaped into the night.

**XxX**

**I'd like to point out that this is chapter nineteen. You're welcome, Jackie!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Impromptu hiatus is officially over!**

**Spontaneous lack of updates is most assuredly vanquished!**

**XxX**

Josie leaned heavily on Sam. Recovering from a near-blackout was never a quick or painless experience. It didn't help her balance that all the hallways in this place were frickin' tubes. No flat walkways. It was like those annoying carnival funhouses mixed with an industrial warehouse.

"How much farther?" Sam asked Ben. She glanced at Josie, concerned if she could make it.

"Hm? Judging by the speed and trajectory," he stalled, pulling a detailed map from his leather pocket. He turned it upside down to see if that made any more sense. It didn't.

"It's this one," he decided, taking a sharp turn into a room label 'r/command'. Sam figured that 'r/' was short for 'room'.

"Wait!" said Nathan, who had been trailing behind. As a scientist, he had been curious to examine the rooms with open doorways as they passed. His bird squawked at him when he distanced himself too far from the rest of the group. Ben made an impatient gesture and closed the door with the flip of a switch as soon as Nathan scrambled through it.

The same bleak metal of the hallway-tubes was here as well. It spanned the square floor to the harsh corners and up the walls all the way to the ridiculously high ceiling. Steps divided the room in half so that whoever entered was immediately facing an elevated platform with three thrones situated on it.

Josie kept her eyes shut, not because of her headache, which was receding, but because she hated the bloody sight of this place.

_"This... sure isn't a horse ranch," Josie from the past speculated. Her pale, not purple skin stood out in the harsh light._

_"You application has been processed," a tall girl with a clip board told her. "After careful examination, we have deemed you worthy for this position. Congratulations."_

_"Um, thanks," said Josie. She had a hard time concentrating on the professional-looking lady speaking to her. The metal of the walls reminded her of handcuffs._

_"There's more good news," a smile filled with false cheer spread across the lady's face._

_"What is it?" Josie asked. She doubted that it was good news she was about to hear. She thought about escaping out the door and back trough the tube-hallways to the train car, but what good would that do? It had been transported right off the tracks._

_The lady clicked her pen and placed it delicately behind her ear. "You've been promoted."_

_"Already?" Josie protested. "What to?"_

_"Slave," the lady said sweetly._

_A purple column of light shot down from the ceiling and enveloped Josie. She tried to scream, but the air was different in the purple light. It caught in her throat and made her gasp for breath. Stepping out of the light didn't accomplish anything. The rim of the column was physically solid, despite it's translucent appearance._

_The whole thing was blinding. She placed her hands over her eyes to try to block out some of the light, too shocked to care that her glasses had clattered to the ground. A growing pressure forced her to her knees, snapping the right corner of the frames._

_The lady brushed her wavy hair behind her shoulder and threw her clip board aside. Several of the pages fell out of the clip, dancing wildly in the air before drifting defeated to the floor. The lady showed no interest in the purple light or the girl encased in it. She walked purposefully up the stairs to the elevated platform and situated herself in the center throne._

_"It's unfortunate that it won't be me you will be serving," said the lady. She crossed her long legs and smoothed her skirt over them. "Not directly, anyway. No, not yet..."_

A different woman sat in the center throne now. The lady from Josie's memory stood at attention on her left, carrying a silver tea tray and exhibiting a strained expression.

The woman in the throne in the throne sat in a very proper manner. Her ankles were crossed and tucked to the side, her hands folded in her lap with dignity. A lush cape was draped across her shoulders. The throne towered over her in size, but the calm features of her face expressed no concern. She was not dwarfed by any of the grandeur, she commanded it.

"Would you care for more tea, Miss Colleen?" The lady asked her.

"No, that's quite alright," Colleen replied. She made a dismissive gesture with her wrist, pushing away the tray before the lady had a chance to bring it any nearer. "You may return to your other duties or remain here if you wish."

"Yes, Miss," the lady bowed slightly, careful not to upset the tea tray.

"Oh, and Sophie?" Colleen called to her as she was leaving.

A look of annoyance flashed on her face, but was gone in an instant. "What is it, Miss Colleen?" she asked with a sweet smile.

"Send out the others, if you will," Colleen's smile was genuine. It carried such a pleasant warmth that it burned Sophie to see it.

"Right away, Miss," Sophie exited through a plain door at the back of the platform.

"So," Colleen turned her attention to the four humans and bird below her throne. "What have we here, Cartographer? More to be purpled?"

"I was under the impression that you had a plan for them," Ben reminded her. "They were on their way to infiltrate the base."

"We were not!" Sam protested. "We just need an eggplant."

"It's the same thing," Colleen explained. "Every eggplant in the country is here, in this building. We can't have our lovely purple servants picking one up off the street, now can we?" She smiled kindly, as if filling an underclassman in on a secret.

"Shouldn't that information be confidential?" Ben suggested.

"Meh," said Colleen, re-situating herself in the throne. "It's not like they're going anywhere."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21: in which lies happen**

**Something I didn't lie about (this time): when the update was happening.**

**Responsibility.**

**XxX**

The soft clinks of metal could be heard from Graham's work table in the corner. He was tinkering with a busted motor he had found on one of his scavenges. It had probably belonged to an automobile before its untimely death; it was too small to be from a generator.

A knee-high wooden box next to his bench was crammed with mismatched metal pieces. He rustled through the box occasionally, creating noise similar to a box of Legos. When Graham didn't find what he was looking for, which was most of the time, he would quietly sigh or hmm. Ben found it rather distracting.

The object of Graham's affection was sitting on the ground scrolling through reddit on his phone. He had been playing the mobile version of Robot Unicorn Attack, but it was hard on his battery life.

"Graham," Ben said with impeding sarcasm, "you're so loud."

Graham half-laughed. Ben noticed that when he did so, he inhaled more than he exhaled, making him wonder why he didn't explode with all the extra noise.

"Urgh, I'm bored," he said. The lock sound on his phone clicked and he deposited the device into his pocket. "Graham, entertain me."

Graham set down his tools. "With what?"

Ben shrugged. "What're you working on?"

The partially dissected motor lay uselessly on the table. Graham started to put it away. "It's nothing much. I'm sure it's horribly simplistic to someone from the future."

"Nah, let me see it," Ben insisted. He stood up plucked it from Graham's hands. He turned it in his hands, examining it. There were no wires. Only cogs and gears, it was fascinating.

XxX

A short jump in the future and also to the west, Colleen was educating her finest trio of purple servants on the proper way to treat guests.

"Throw them in the dungeon," she said.

Kim, Blume, and Sarah Hime, the white-cloaked figures who had failed in capturing the spirit of the TARDIS in a past chapter, nodded and got to work. Kim and Blume each grabbed the arm of either Nathan or Sam and began to lead them to the door. Sarah Hime hesitated in doing the same to Josie.

This caught Colleen's attention. "Is something wrong, Sarah?" She was one of her favorite Renzoku. Even if she hadn't been, Colleen preferred to keep her servants on a first name basis.

Sarah Hime shuffled her feat and mumbled something.

"Speak up, please," said Colleen. She was used to the girl being quiet. "I want to hear you voice resound like a bass drum."

Kim and Blume rolled their eyes at this everyday occurrence. They knew very well that Sarah could shout and laugh obnoxiously loud when she wanted to.

"Do you really want Josie down there? In the dungeon?" Sarah Hime spoke up just enough to be heard.

"Of corse not!" Colleen laughed lightly at how preposterous the idea was. Some of the tension receded from Sarah's form. "The dungeon is on the main floor! No one's going down anywhere."

Sarah recoiled. "But... she's one of us."

Colleen's amusement was washed off her features as if a bucket of water had been splashed in her face.

"Her loyalties," she said slowly, "are divided. Take her away."

Sarah nodded quickly and pulled Josie over to the others. The hand that wasn't restraining her fellow purple servant was clutching her side, anticipating the jabbing of invisible punishment spoons. Josie's eyes softened with empathy. No matter what Sarah did under Renzoku, Josie knew she couldn't blame her for it.

Leather Ben's wrist notifier beeped the instant the doors had closed. He read the text and then conveyed the message to his sovereign.

"Two more are on their way," he reiterated.

"By the moons of Gallifrey how many can there be?" Colleen sighed. "Very well. Fetch them like the others."

"Aren't you worried that people will notice the, um, train abnormalities?" said Ben.

Colleen waved her hand dismissively. "They would have noticed us soon enough. The plan will be completed by the time the week is out, correct?"

"Yes, miss."

XxX

Happening simultaneously with the previous scene, the doctor and Jackie finally slowed in their running. They lost and had no plan, now that Nina's antics had nullified their last.

Jackie placed her hands on her knees, partially to catch her breath and partially to assess the damaged done to her shoes. One of the bows had fallen off either in the fight or the flight. She casually plucked the other one off, too; it was coming loose anyway.

"Where to next?" the doctor wondered aloud. He put his hands in his pockets, weighing the chances that he would get to hold Jackie's hand again soon.

"I suppose we should go to Hammersmith to meet up with the others?" Jackie suggested. He straightened up a put the bow into a hidden pocket in her dress. She would whisper sweet nothings to her evil sewing machine to reattach it later.

The doctor looked doubtful. "Let's not go to Hammersmith. It's a silly place."

XxX

The interrogation over the function of Graham's machine finally stopped. Ben handed back the mechanism, which Graham tucked away in a drawer.

"It really is taking them a long time to get a freaking eggplant," said Ben, checking the clock on his phone. Since when was it in army time? He quickly switched it back to standard.

"I suppose we could go find them," said Graham. He looked up at the hands-and-face clock above the shop counter. He had made it himself. "It's closing time anyway."

**XxX**

**Lies Happen part 2 coming soon. Because this chapter didn't get to any of said lies.**


	22. Chapter 22

**I wasn't lying when I said I'd update by today. Twenty minutes to spare, biaches.**

**Lies Happen part 2 **

**XxX**

Ben was not very comfortable in this situation. He would have rather paid the fare, but in the non-stop confusion that had happened since they stepped off the TARDIS, he hadn't had a chance to change his $ into £.

Graham had a well-worn solution. He had never paid a train fare in his life. Even if he did have the money, no one could see him among all the people, so no one bothered to take it. In fact, Graham suspected it would cause more trouble to pay than not to.

That's why the two of them were chained together.

The TARDIS key, which was the source of the perception filter, was on a long chain around Graham's neck. When Ben commented that he hadn't noticed he was wearing it, Graham enigmatically claimed he hadn't either. He'd never heard of a TARDIS or a filter of any kind before yesterday.

"I'd assumed it was a defect," Graham admitted. "Some people are born without sight, I thought I was born without the ability to be seen."

When they had decided to go look for Sam and K9, the key suddenly appeared. Perhaps it had always been there, like a birthmark on someone's back; even they themselves don't know about it. Graham found that the chain holding the key around his neck was wide enough to fit over his head and potentially be taken off, but he couldn't lift it above his ears.

It could, however, be placed around Ben's neck in addition to Graham's. Thus the duo shuffled awkwardly through the train station, seen by no one.

A baggage trolley careened down the platform, weaving haphazardly through the gaps in the crowd. To the frantic driver, Ben and Graham were one such gap.

Ben's gaming instincts kicked in. He clutched Graham's waist and sidestepped out of danger. The rambunctious cart narrowly missed both of them and continued on its way, earning choice words and angry glares from the others on the platform.

"Thanks," Graham said. Ben dropped his arm.

Stairs were also a hassle. Height wasn't an issue, but coordination was a bitch. Especially when the entrance to all the train cars are one person wide and steep as the decent to hell. Except going up.

Whatever. They were safely seated now. The porter, a woman this time, punched the last of the tickets and moved on the the next car. Ben yanked off the chain and dropped it unceremoniously. Graham tucked it back into his shirt.

A shrill whistle sounded and the car lurched into locomotion.

XxX

In Hammersmith, the other Ben was also in the midst of departure.

"Don't forget this!" a busty, brown haired girl dumped an armload off useless gadgets at his feet. She smiled and adjusted her glasses triumphantly.

Ben prodded a wad of bandages with his toe. It appeared to be wrapped around a chocolate chip cookie. "I... really doubt I'll be needing this," he told her truthfully.

The girl grinned. "You never know what kind of accidents might happen," she reminded him, daintily picking up a box of brownie mix duct taped to an arm splint. She offered it to him, and he blatantly refused. She shrugged, ripped open the box and began sprinkling its contents on the floor in a demonic pattern.

"Laura..." Ben trailed off.

"Yeah?" she didn't look up, she was busy reading the nutrition facts on the brownie mix, specifically the salt content.

"Could I just get some refills of vanishing powder and stuff?" Ben asked. "And please put it in a nondescript container. It don't need a bag labeled "Princess Ben's Fairy Dust of Friendship" hangin off my belt."

Laura Lewski snorted a laugh. "I still can't get over that. I look at the pictures whenever I'm feeling down."

Ben sighed. "If you're not going to help me, I go ask Sophie." He took a few steps to the door.

Laura's attitude suddenly changed. "No!" she called out, letting the empty brownie box/arm splint slip from her hands. She ran to him, grabbed his sleeve, reevaluated the action, and grabbed the rest of his arm too.

"Don't leave me," Laura said. She buried her face in the fabric of his shirt. "Not for her."

Ben tensed. Sometimes he forgot that Laura had been one of the first to see his face without his mask and fall prey to his curse. She was doomed to love him until they found a cure for the infatuation. To make matters worse, Laura Lewski was crazy even when she wasn't a love sick idiot, so it was low on the Researcher's priority list to fix her.

Laura continued to nuzzle into his bicep. "I'll get you whatever you need, darling," she promised him.

Ben desperately tried to wiggle out of her hold. "I. Just. Need. Vanishing powder."

"Right away!" Laura sang happily. She released her captive appendage and bounced to the back room where all the _real_ equipment was kept. She forgot about the pile of ...stuff in the middle of the floor and fell on top of it. She was uninjured, for once, but she distinctly felt a container of frosted animal crackers in an uncomfortable spot on her torso.

XxX

People were staring at them. As the train picked up speed, they go bored and, having nothing better to do, noticed Ben and Graham. The passengers shot Ben questioning looks, mostly because of his modern clothing.

"You know," Graham said quietly, "the point of picking out those clothes that you would wear them. You look like a surf."

"I do not," Ben argued. "In my time, I'm a fashionable fellow." He held up his bad in mock dignity.

"And in my time, you look like a delinquent." Graham handed him a bag of clothes they had looked at earlier. Where had he been keeping that? "There's a loo in the car behind us. Go change."

Ben checked the bag for dresses. Seeing that there were none, he harrumphed and got up to conform his wardrobe. The sliding door connecting the train cars shut softly behind him.

The scenery out of Graham's window was edging out of the city and into the brighter tones of the countryside. The sunshine was welcome, even if it was as weak as American tea.

The sliding door rolled open and shut again. Graham's eyes didn't leave the window until Ben sat down beside him again.

"Huh, I don't remember that outfit," Graham studied Ben's attire from the buttoned leather vest to the mask that covered half his face. "It looks good, but is the mask really necessary?"

Graham reached up and plucked the thin mask from Ben's face. Both their eyes widened in surprise.

Graham's heart did a Charleston in his chest. Ben looked absolutely stunning. He had before, too, but now he could swear there was light radiating from him or something. Had his eyes always been such an intoxicating blue? Graham didn't know. He didn't know much of anything at the moment.

He felt compelled to do something. And no amount of invisibility in the world could save him from the consequences of that something.

Graham closed his eyes and kissed him.

**XxX**

**Will the moe bells ring?**

**Can this get any more gay?**

**Will I be stoned by the real Ben and Graham?**

**Part 3 of Lies Happen coming soon. **


	23. Chapter 23

**One of my favorite things about writing that's not for school is when readers figure out the hidden symbolism in the story. It's even better when I had no idea it was there either.**

**Lies Happen part 3, special price just for you.**

**XxX**

This era's clothing wasn't so bad, Ben decided. He walked the length of the train car, doing up the last of the vest buttons. He pitied the girls, though. What would they do if there was a zombie attack? Running was out of the question. He knew from recent experience how heavy those dresses were.

The goggles were definitely the best part. He would have to ask Graham what the- oh.

Upon opening the door to their original train car, he saw that Graham was... otherwise occupied. It didn't bother him that the one he was, uh, giving his full attention to was a guy, but that the guy was... himself.

What in the name of marriage equality was going on here.

XxX

It wasn't the first time something like this had happened, someone catching a glimpse of his face and getting caught up in the curse. It was something Ben had hoped the Researchers could cure, which is why he joined originally. It seemed that however many precautions he took, slip ups occurred with alarming frequency.

Ben the Researcher stood up awkwardly, pushing Graham away with more force than he had intended.

"I have a job to do," he explained. "There isn't any time for delay, no matter how-"

Graham looked at him expectantly.

Ben sighed. "Let's just go."

XxX

The Ben in the doorway was still deciding if it would be best to confront the two of them (the two of us? three of us?) or to retreat. His options were severely crippled when the other Ben poured some powder on the floor and snapped his fingers, making both him and Graham vanish in thick smoke.

The other passengers didn't even blink. For all they cared, there was still one Ben and no Grahams. Everything was right with the world.

If there was another him traipsing around and stealing his friends, then all was certainly not right with the world.

**XxX**

**End of Lies Happen.**

**Bonus Material to Follow ~**

**XxX**

The pale effort of the sun to rise was pathetic. It was already intolerably icy and windy, the only thing that could have remedied the weather situation being a little warmth, a little light. All that had bothered to show up was a half-hearted rain. It was not Nina's day.

The weary, temporarily defeated assassin trudged to shelter. The fight with TARDIS-lady had undone her hairstyle and the matted effect the slight rain caused was oh so cool. She was tempted to remove her heels to keep from slipping on the ice-slicked walk. She needed a drink.

The Spicy Centenial was the best pub in London, if you couldn't risk being seen anywhere else. Nina had been spending a lot of time here lately, and it had absolutely nothing to do with-

"Hola chica!" The bartender waved to her, mid conversation with another customer.

Nina rolled her eyes. "You're not even Spanish, Nate!"

"That's right," Nate agreed. "I'm from 'Murica." His other customer gave him a tip, which Nate thanked him for with a swat on the head and a smile. He turned back to Nina. "What'll it be?"

Nina slid onto a seat at the bar. "You know what. It's been a rough day, so we're gonna get crazy. No ice."

"I'll need to some ID for that," he said solemnly.

"Pfft, you know my ID's as legitimate as your liquor license," Nina replied. She kicked her heels off under the counter. Those things were killer on her as much as her victims.

"Alright," Nate began mixing Nina's drink. "Could I get something else instead? A date maybe?"

Nina laughed. "Not today, Uncle Sam."

**XxX**

**Yet another chapter delivered on schedule!**


	24. Chapter 24

**I update when I want, biaches!**

**XxX**

When Nina was small, she had a favorite book. Her childhood being in the 22nd century, it was on glowing reading device you wouldn't understand. Her parents gave her free range of the device's library. They were off doing assassin business and didn't have time to approve every book she read. Nina got to know some interesting information in this manner.

The first thing she got in trouble for reading at school was a steamy scene between a pirate and a military admiral. She was much more careful from then on and always had another tab up with age-appropriate material in case a figure of authority passed by. But Nina's favorite book was much darker than smut.

She came across it completely on accident. It was mixed in with the Dr. Seuss books she was browsing while she was waiting for her parents to get back from disposing of the Prime Minister. She managed to save a PDF of it before the automatic cleaning mod corrected the error. She had been memorizing its pages ever since.

The book was The Perfect Murderess by Dr. Malice McDenim. It went into minute detail on the transformation from innocent to apparently innocent. It became the holy book of Nina's personal religion.

Even though they would have been proud of her for taking up the family business, she never told her parents about it. A large percentage of the time she spent with them was in transit. Being assassins, they were always on the move. Nina never completed a year of school in one location.

"Assassins have to make career choices," her father told her one day. "It's not enough to be the best. The best make their kill without a hint of their presence. That's not going to get dinner on the table."

Nina pondered this as she collected the silverware that had been discarded from their most recent meal. She was just tall enough to see over the edge of the table and was thrilled to be helping daddy with the dishes without a stool.

"What's better that the best?" Nina asked her father once she was sure she was stumped.

"The ultimate assassin is the best," her father continued. "Or they could be, if that's what they wanted. The difference is that they don't just get the job done, they add style. That style is advertising. Killing people doesn't make money, Nina. Getting hired makes money."

Nina scrunched up her face. Her father's words directly conflicted with Dr. Malice McDenim. The perfect murderess killed for the sake of it, the art of the crime. Only when the assassin refused outside motivation, factors that made them predictable, could they become the ultimate hunter. There was no room for _advertising_.

A handful of moves after that conversation, Nina's parents got a peculiar job. The person that needed to be snuffed was already dead. The problem was, he had needed to die a lot sooner.

The employers were desperate. They knew a Time Lock was approaching. They offered to send the family back in time to complete the job. Nina's parents were ecstatic. All the advertising they had left from previous jobs was starting to catch up with them. A time before the galaxy knew them would be a new start, less running, a chance at retirement if they played it right.

It's hard to play anything right when even time isn't straightforward. The time lords that employed Nina's family were sloppy. As soon as they landed in the right century, they had to take off again. Something about a war starting. They left Nina's parents minimal instructions, a downpayment, and lots of time. Too much time. Their target hadn't been born yet.

The only clue the time lords gave them on was that the person would succeed in an attempt to slay the last time lord and that they would be born in December. The job was to protect that time lord at all costs.

"Hold on," Nina's father interrupted. "You time lords look like us, how will we know who to protect and who to assassinate?"

They laughed. "You will know the doctor. The target will be the tricky part."

Nina's family never heard from them again.

Years passed. Nina graduated from university with ease. She had the knowledge of centuries in the future; it made any education from this time mostly review from eighth grade.

Her mother became a midwife and her father a doctor. Between the hospitals and the house calls, they were able to tag every child born in London during the month of December. The tags left no marks to the untrained eye, only Nina's family knew how to see them.

There was so much room for worry. What if the one they were looking for wasn't born in London? They couldn't ask visiting December-borns to identify themselves in London, that would be reminiscent of the Holocaust. Not that it had happened yet.

The plan changed when Nina's mother contracted scarlet fever. If they were in their own time, it could have been cured in a matter of minutes. Here, there was little hope that she'd recover at all.

"Damn those time lords!" Nina exploded when she came home to find that her mother could no longer walk. "If they had stuck around or knew what they were doing this wouldn't have happened! I don't care who this doctor is or how much he pays, wasting our lives here isn't worth it. Let's leave and let that prick die, it already happened anyway!"

"Nina," her father glared at her. He was kneeling at her mother's bedside, clutching her fever-burned hands.

Nina's hands tightened into fists. "What?" she spat.

"You know we can't go back," he said. His tone was abrasive, yet she could barely hear it over her mother's struggling breaths. "We have no time machine. No one is coming to get us. We're stuck here whether we complete the job or not."

Nina folded her arms across her chest. She knew he was right.

"The job's at least ten years out," Nina reasoned. "assuming we track the target down in time. What happens then?"

Her father was silent for a moment. "You'll have to do it," he said at last.

Nina was furious. "I'll be in my thirties or forties! I'll want a stable family, kids that don't worry if their mom is coming home every night. Don't you want me to have my own life?"

Her father flinched.

"I'm already an old maid for this era," Nina ranted on. "You're the one who doesn't wan me to get boyfriends mixed up in the family business. I'm not staying your little girl for one pointless job!"

"That's enough, Nina!" her father roared. He dropped his wife's hands and stood to his full height. Nina was cast into darkness by his shadow alone.

"This family has never fallen through on a task of a customer," his tone was calm, but a deadly current ran under it. "I will not let that streak be broken."

"You sound like frickin' Mulan," Nina said under her breath.

Her father inhaled sharply. Nina braced herself.

Movement from the bed interrupted the impending conflict, Nina's mother struggled to sit up. Her father rushed back to her side, adjusting the pillows around her. "Nina... Nina listen."

"Yes, mum?" Nina stood a few steps back from her father, who had returned to his position kneeling by his wife.

"The universe... needs... the doctor," her mother managed to say between breaths. "And the doctor... needs... you. I've only... heard of him... in legends... but I know... he is someone... irreplaceable. You must... keep him... safe." She grimaced in a wave of fresh pain.

"Mum, I-"

"Nina... please."

She stood there. Her father stared hard at her. Her mother's eyes flickered with fever. In the end, she couldn't lie to her parents.

"I'm sorry, Mum," Nina said. "I can't." She picked up a pair of her mother's heels and walked out the door.


	25. Chapter 25

Nina's heels clicked down the street, away from her parent's house. She couldn't believe they would use her like this. Her parents, the time lords, the doctor. They were all doomed to die, why couldn't they let her live?

Dr. Malice Denim taught her that a true assassin keeps their emotions in check. Eliminating them entirely was an amateur mistake; fear and determination were key elements to the hunt. But these conflicted feelings, they had to go.

Summer was mild in the London of this century; global warming was just a rookie. So that heat was either the physical embodiment of her fury or-

"Fire!"

"The tenants are on fire!"

Nina dashed toward the cries of panic. She rounded a corner and was faced with a horrible sight. One of the developments was in flames and threatening to catch on to its neighbor. People rushed out of the building in distress and into it with even great panic. Women tore off smoldering skirts to shield themselves from the heat and returned for their children. Men carried huge containers with as much water as they could to the adjoining building. Children shouted in fear, alerting those nearby of the danger.

Where the hell was the fire department?

A tall man brushed past Nina, who was still gawking. "Excuse me, coming through, people to save, very sorry, you'll be fine, gotta run...!" The tall man sputtered nonsense as he made his way through the crowd that had accumulated near Nina. His overcoat swept out behind him and danced around his shoes, which were bright red with white laces. As he approached the building, he inspected it first with a pair of thick prescription flames, then 3D glasses, then the perceptions again before stashing them both in his coat and casting the whole thing aside. He looked ready to run into the inferno, the crazy prick.

A girl about half Nina's height ran up to him. She was crying and doing her best to speak clearly. The man knelt to her height and waited for her to say what she needed to.

"My mum and dad! My brother! There're in the flat on the top floor!" the girl swatted strands of sandy blonde hair away from her face and rubbed her eyes.

The man stood up. With a determined smile, he took off into the building.

Nina knew who the man was. He was the doctor.

The girl collapsed to her knees, staring bleary-eyed up at the flames. Nina rushed to her side.

"Don't look at it, everything will be fine," she assured her. "What's your name? Look at me."

The girl turned her head slowly, tears still fresh on her face. "Sam," she said with a sniff.

"Sam," Nina said. "Concentrate on me. That man will be out with your family before you know it."

Nina kept Sam talking, distracting her from the deteriorating building before her.

A roar erupted from the building and one of the levels collapsed. Sam whimpered and hid her face in Nina's dress.

A muffled yell of "it doesn't work on wood" came from the first floor. Sam looked up. She started to run to the sound, but Nina held her back. There was a smash and clatter of boards falling, kicked down by a pair of red Converse. The doctor emerged, soot-faced and coughing. In his arms was a boy with hair like Sam's, not more than a year old.

"Graham!" Sam shouted. Nina let her run to her brother.

"He's not breathing," said the doctor. He trotted to a spot away from the smoke and laid the child down on the ground.

Nina ran to them. "I know CPR, I can help!" she pushed the doctor out of the way. Sam looked on anxiously as Nina tilted Graham's head to open the airway and gave him a breath. She checked for a heartbeat, which he had, and gave another breath. Graham coughed and began to cry, signaling that he could breath once again.

Sam picked up baby Graham and hugged him close. "Thank you so much!" she told Nina and the doctor. Her look of relief and gratitude quickly faded. "Where are Mum and Dad?"

The doctor's face was grim. "I'm so sorry."

"No," Sam whispered.

"I'm sorry," said the doctor again. "I couldn't- I'm sorry."

Sam didn't move. Her eyes were dead. Nina reached out a hand to reassure her, but Sam shook it off. The subsiding flames crackled with less gusto in the background.

Sam stood, Graham hiding his face in her shoulder. "It's fine," she said. For a moment it looked like she was going to say something else, but she didn't. She nodded her thanks to the both of them once more a broke into a run. Away from the doctor and assassin, away from the remains of their home.

Nina watched them go. "Should we follow them, Doctor?"

He shook his head. "Sam's a strong girl. She'll find a way. Humans always do."

Nina looked back at the tenant house. It was smoldering itself out. Only the charcoal skeleton and soot stains were left above the rubble. It was hard to think of recovery in the presence of destruction.

"And that's just one building," the doctor echoed Nina's thoughts. "It won't be the last, unless- would you help me with something?"

"Sure, but I'm just a bystander," said Nina. "I'm not running into any burning buildings."

The doctor had the expression of someone who'd been told a really bad joke. "You're not from around here, are you," he said. It was a statement, not a question.

"I was born in London," Nina said truthfully.

"I wasn't talking about where," the doctor clarified.

"I suppose you would know, wouldn't you, Doctor?" Nina smiled innocently.

The doctor shrugged. "Yeah. I would. Now, if you wouldn't mind, this is a time sensitive issue, so we should get going." He retrieved his coat and beckoned for her to follow.

"Oh my, running off with strange men," Nina said, a little cheerfulness returned to her demeanor. "Wouldn't my par-"

Nina discontinued her train of thought, thinking of them wouldn't do her any good. And neither would getting to know the man she was determined not to save.

The doctor stopped and waited for her. "What are we dealing with?" she asked him.

"Intergalactic pyromaniacs," the doctor answered.

"Sounds like a garage band," Nina commented.

"I wish," said the doctor. "Then we could just troll them on a message board and be done with it. We're doing this instead."

He stopped abruptly and in front of a blue police box. He ducked behind it and retrieved a jar of what looked like jelly beans. Nina quirked an eyebrow.

"These," explained the doctor, "are not candy. I'm not really sure what they are, but when burned, they expel a chemical that puts out the pyros."

"You mean the fires?"

"No, the pyros," the doctor said. "Didn't I say? The fires are an extension of themselves. They're like human torches. Putting them out won't kill them, but it'll make it easier to transport them back to their home planet. The three of them are wanted for theft and public indecency. Oh, and murder."

Nina crossed her arms over her simple dress. "What do you need me for?"

"You'll figure it out, Ms. Assassin," he replied. After a second of thought, he fixed her with a stare. "No killing. These are the only weapons you need." He scooped a handful of the multicolored beans out of the jar and handed her the rest. Without dropping a single one, he stowed equal portions in several pockets of his coat and vest. Nina unwound a cord that was attached to the jar and slung it over her shoulder.

Out of the inside of the doctor's coat came the sonic screwdriver. He pointed it in a circle, muttering about how they couldn't have gotten far. To Nina's bewilderment, he suddenly shouted and tilted the screwdriver's light to the ground. A change in pitch only he could make sense of determined where they were headed. Underground.


	26. Chapter 26

"Watch your head," the doctor advised. Nina ducked under a stray pipe. It was a trip wire at chin level. The architect must have been on a hallucinogen.

The brickwork ahead was flickering with firelight, a strange thing to have in a dank passage such as this. Water dripped from the roof of the tunnel; the fire was no accident.

"Look at that," the doctor breathed. He turned to Nina. "Last chance for questions, it gets tricky after this point."

Nina rolled the alien jelly beans around in her hand; she was nervous and did have a lot of questions, but she was too assassin to ask any of them. She shook her head, her lips in a firm line.

"In that case," said the doctor, "Alonse-y!"

The room with the fire had the same brickwork as the tunnel, but that was where the similarities stopped. There was fancy furniture and no water. Colors were bright and mostly orange. Nina squinted, her eyes protesting from being made to adjust from summer day to grey tunnel to firey-

"Hang on," said Nina. "There's no fire place."

The doctor scoffed. "Well you don't put a bed in an entryway, do you?"

"What?"

"This would have been a good thing to clarify a few seconds ago," the doctor said. "These people aren't just arsonists, they-"

"We are fire," a voice crackled. Bars of flame shot up around the doctor and Nina, trapping them in separate bird cages. The speaker and two other human-shaped masses of light flickered to life near the doorway opposite the tunnels.

The first arsonist snickered, clearly enjoying himself. The other two, female by their flaming silhouettes, smiled widely with their black and blonde hair dancing around them.

The doctor quickly dug a fistful of jelly bean things out of his trouser pocket and threw them at the arsonists. They sizzled on the bars of fire and dropped harmlessly to the ground. The three human torches laughed harder.

"Oh how cute," the man said. "Do you want me to teach you how to use your own weapons?"

"They won't work on fires that aren't connected to their source," purred the blonde woman.

"Then come over here and let me light your fire," the doctor said with a dry tone.

"Sorry," said the blonde, "I'm already taken." She wound her arm around the black-haired girl's waist.

The man snapped his fingers. "Jen, relieve the kind doctor of his coat."

Jen, the blonde, rolled her eyes. "Oh please," she crossed her arms. "Do you still think you're in some position of authority? Brandy, be a dear and take his coat. Her purse, too."

Brandy nodded and said something inaudible with her eyes downcast. Jen whispered something back to her, her lips brushing the other's ear. Brandy shivered and crossed the room to retrieve the articles.

"You don't have to do this, Brandy," the doctor said. "We can work something out. If they are forcing you to do anything-"

Brandt's eyes snapped up to meet him full-force. "Why would I be here if I didn't want to be?" she asked.

Nina almost choked. The hatred in Brandy's expression was so potent, it was unbelievable that it had been hiding behind her silk, black bangs and wide eyes.

The doctor emptied another pocketful of jelly beans into his hand, ready to defend himself. Brandy was not concerned in the least. Her hand darted right through the cage bars, the fire mingling with her own. She gripped the doctor's wrist, tightening her hold until all the jelly beans dropped harmlessly to the floor.

A darkened ring remained on his wrist when Brandy released him. He touched it gingerly and hissed through his teeth.

"These are my friends," Brandy smiled a little. "We have a lot in common. Like the desire to burn this entire city to ashes. It's so cold here. How do you stand it?"

"You're right," said Nina.

The doctor and his adversaries turned to her wordlessly.

"I hate this city," said Nina.

The surprise in the doctor's eyes blinked into sadness.

"It's not the cold, but the people," said Nina. "They all expect things from you. All of them. There isn't a person I've met that didn't have alter motives in talking to me. And everyone else can't be bothered. The people who pass by without a glance on the street, on the train, on campus. University was bloody awful. I'd love to see it burn."

Jen grinned. "What an interesting human."

The doctor didn't say anything. Brandy retreated behind her sweeping bangs and slid his coat off his shoulders.

"Here," said Nina, handing over her purse. "I won't need it."

"Wonderful!" said the man on fire. He clapped his hands once and the flaming bars of Nina's cage were extinguished. The doctor's burned brighter in comparison.

The human torches left smolder marks in the wake of their footfalls. The man's got lighter as he approached Nina, she realized when he took her hand that the flames surrounding his body had cooled so that they tickled instead of burned. The mark on the doctor's wrist wouldn't fade from her peripheral vision.

"Would you like to join us, darling?" he asked her. He placed his lips to her hand and looked at her seductively over his glasses. He wasn't wearing glasses, but that's what it reminded her of.

((3D glasses are the sexiest kind of glasses everyone else go home))

Nina fluttered her lashes. "Will it be dangerous?"

"Very," he assured her.

Nina smiled with pursed, red lips. "I can't wait."

There was a crisp click of heels on the floor and Nina's arms were around his neck, her face very close to his. She felt his breath hitch, his hands hovered by her sides until being hesitantly placed on her waist.

"What's your name?" Nina asked quietly. Her eyes darted to his mouth and back. Strands of brown hair fell from where they had been tucked behind her ear when she tilted her head.

"What?" the man was having trouble listening to her when she was so... distracting.

"I like to know names before I kiss someone," Nina murmured. Her mouth barely moved when she spoke.

He couldn't think for the life of him. After a moment, Nina reconsidered and connected their lips anyway. She took dominance quickly, pushing her tongue and something else-

The man pushed her away. He spit an orange jelly bean to the side, but it was too late. The fire around him flickered and died.

Nina whipped her mouth with her sleeve. "Detonate," she said. Her purse, in the hands of Brandy, exploded, flinging more beans every which way. The two girls shrieked as their fires, too, went out.

The doctor's cage disappeared into whisps of smoke. He grinned and Nina ginned back.

XxX

"Glad that's through with," the doctor concluded, cuffing the last human torch to a stationary police beacon. Jen glared at him, though she was much less intimidating with her fires off. The three of them had cracked, dark skin that resembled charcoal. It smoothed out and glowed in the fire, which was presently not the case.

Nina stood awkwardly back a dozen paces. The three of them tried to kick at her if she got too close. She'd almost tripped the first time.

"Did you think I'd betrayed you, doctor?" she asked quietly.

"Oh nooo," said the doctor with too much enthusiasm. His smiled drooped when he thought she wasn't looking.

"I'll have to work on my acting, then," Nina went along with it. "Just don't get into any more trouble, I can't guarantee that I'll save you a second time."

"I'll manage."

XxX

Nina did not step foot in the TARDIS. It would have been too tempting not to go back. And she had made up her mind to stay and find the child who would kill the doctor. Whether it was to stop him or help him, she hadn't decided. She figured she had enough time to ponder it.

"I'm going to save the doctor," she told her father when she returned to their flat. "I'll make you proud."

Her father smiled, the beginnings of a tear in one eye. "I'd be proud no matter what you chose, you were always so true to yourself, Nina." He patted her head with a callused hand. She brushed it off, but couldn't help smiling. He had done the same thing when she was a kid.

"Still," she said. "It might be fifteen, twenty, thirty years in the future. I don't know how my assassin skills will hold up after all that time."

Her father got a look about him like he was about to reveal the trick behind another magician's magic. "Did you know," he said, "that your mother and I were in our fifties when we had you?"

"Fifties?" Nina was incredulous. "But you look fifty now."

"That's the family secret," her father confided. He shuffled his way to the hallway closet, the one where they stashed their suspicious-looking things from the future. He removed the secret panel and rummaged around, pulling what looked like a stapler from the mess.

"A stapler?" Nina raised an eyebrow. Her father always was a sort of prankster.

He shook his head. "It's very well disguised."

Part of the device extended, making the gap where paper usually goes wide enough to fit a grapefruit. A thin needle perched on one side of the opening.

"Okay, it's not a stapler," Nina admitted. "Do you use it to shoot drugs?"

"Kind of," her father said. "A drug that stops the aging process."

Nina gave her father a look. "If you're joking I _will_ kill you."

"That's my girl!" her father laughed.

Nina punched in the shoulder.

"But seriously," he continued. "This is a big decision. Your mother and I only did it once for a job. We had to go undercover separately for a long time, twenty three years? We were already married but down on our money, and it was a high paying job. High paying as in own a moderately sized country. We didn't want to waste our youth apart from each other, so we did this." He gestured to the device.

"Why did you start aging again?" Nina asked. "You could have lived forever if you were careful."

"Checks and balances," he father answered. "This isn't the fountain of youth. It stops working when you kiss someone."

"That doesn't seem scientific," Nina reproached.

Her father shrugged. "It also stops working when you own seventy five percent of your economy's wealth. It's about as logical as a teapot in space."

Nina rolled up her sleeve. "I'm in."

"There's one more thing," said her father. He was stalling now, she could tell. "Be minimal with relationships. No one can know about life in the future or the age-stapler. Understand?"

Nina nodded, holding her arm up higher to be injected.

"Don't you want to think it over more?" her father shied away from the outstretched appendage. "Maybe talk to your mother?"

"No," she said with conviction. "Get it over with. I don't want to have a chance to change my mind."

XxX

London changed. Her father grew grey much faster once her mother passed. Nina buried them both.

For over ten years, Nina put her education in medicine to mark the babies born in December like her parents had. She memorized pages of birth registrations. She also took assassin jobs when she needed a thrill.

The Perfect Murderess migrated from her book shelf to her night stand every year on the anniversary of her father's death. It was full of digital notes, the content of which added up to be about the same quantity as the book itself.

She occasionally saw Sam and her brother around, picking pockets and the like. They were her favorite to she grow up. Even when the higher class Londoners looked down on them, or even spit on them, they were always laughing by the end of the day. Usually because the rude person often kept strange pictures in their billfolds that the Cracker children found easy to steal.

She talked to people as to not be suspicious. She always left before long. It was eighteen years before Nina saw the TARDIS again, and she only had a vague idea how to protect the man traveling inside.


	27. Chapter 27

**This chapter was made possible by Sophie, the fairy queen of motivation.**

**XxX**

Out of all their hiding places in the city, this was her favorite. Sam removed a particular board from the floor of the abandoned apartment, uncovering their stash of useless treasures.

A pin with a company insignia caught Josie's attention. She picked it up from the pile and examined it. "You've had this forever," she said. "Why haven't you sold it? That must be real gold."

"It is," Sam spread the other highlights of the stash on the floorboards still in place. "But it's too recognizable. Screams pickpocket from a kilometer away."

"I suppose that means I can't wear it in public either," Josie said, pinning the astonishingly bland ornament to the front of her shirt. "Pity."

Sam gave a subtle smirk. Any jewelry would look suspicious on either of them, as raggedy as they were. "You might be able to soon; Graham's sources say that the company won't be in business by the end of the week."

Josie tipped an eyebrow with interest. "That so? The paper says they've had the best profit of any that sells in London."

"Thus attracting the attention of the Red Plague," Sam explained. The Red Plague was a hero to them, but a public menace to anyone with something to loose.

The door creaked open to allow ten-year-old Graham's tiny face to peek in. "Can I play?" he asked.

Sam sighed. "We're not playing, Graham," she shifted a few trinkets around on the floor to look busy. "This is official business. Go and build another seven-in-one lock pick or something."

"Okay," Graham said, disappearing quietly. His pouting face made his nose wrinkle in the cutest way. Unfortunately, there was no room for little brother cuteness in this team.

"This is team business," Josie pointed out. "Much too dangerous for little brothers."

"Don't worry," said Sam. "No matter how good he is at sneaking around, we'll still be the Best Team Forever."

"Right!" Josie said, giving Sam the secret high-five handshake. "Best Team Forever."

**XxX**

Metal bars screeched with the affects of being left about unused. The Researchers didn't usually need the dungeon, their prisoners had all been turned purple up to this point. Nathan, Sam, and Josie were the only exceptions.

"Sorry about this, Josie," Sarah whispered. She guided her into the cell and sat her down against the far wall. Josie had mostly recovered, but didn't have the fight in her to resist the handcuffs that Sarah Hime attached her to the wall with.

Josie didn't answer. She watched Kim secure Sam to the wall to the right of her in the same fashion. Sam was struggling a bit more, but it was clear it wasn't doing much good.

Nathan was compliant enough until Emma picked up his bird cage and started to carry it out of the cell. "No, stop!" he shouted at her. She turned around, more shocked than frightened.

Nathan's eyes threatened death. "Griffin stays here," his tone was low, leaving no room for argument.

"Alright, fine, fine," Emma set down the cage and backed away. The three captors exited the cell, locking it behind them.

Sam's defiant posture crumpled once their retreating steps could no longer be heard. "What now?" she asked the floor.

There's not much to do, Josie thought, but stayed silent.

**XxX**

"Get back here, you kids!" The constable jogged after them, baton raised above his head and mustache flapping in the wind. He was quickly receding from sight.

Josie laughed back at him. Both she and Sam were quick on their feet, light with hunger and tireless with confidence in a pay off. They wallets and jewelry they had pocketed today deserved a feast.

The ground flew past until there wasn't a trace of the constable's shouts behind them. The girls ducked past two corners to be safe and leaned against the back wall of a shop, breathing heavily.

"You got careless again," Sam said once she had her lungs under control.

"Nothing we couldn't handle," Josie said dismissively. "Besides," she held up a diamond-studded pocket watch. "I think it was well worth it."

Sam grinned. She couldn't argue with that.

**XxX**

"Nina, report back to base immediately," her communicator commanded. The assassin whipped a trail of blood from her cheek and stared at the device on her wrist. She hated being told what to do by the same person for so long. She felt micromanaged. Her days as the Red Plague had held so much more freedom.

She sighed and put on her best 'yes, master' face to answer the communicator.

**XxX**

"Three street thefts of significant articles from pompous bastards in a week," Nina paraphrased from the paper. "Very impressive." She tossed the wrinkled thing back in the bin on the corner. It was starting to drizzle and she didn't have much interest in anything that wasn't the police report, anyway.

Someone short bumped into her shoulder. "Sorry, ma'am," they said in a gruff voice without stopping. Nina marched after then and caught them by the shoulder.

"You should be ashamed of your self," Nina said to their face when she whipped them around. "That pick pocketing technic is so below you."

The forced of Nina's grip and spin was enough to unsettle the hat from Josie's head. The hat fell with a damp plop to the ground.

"You going to turn me in?" Josie challenged. Her eyes were wide but her voice was unfaltering.

"No," Nina admitted. "But I'd like to if you are going to get lazy like that. You don't steal three very valuable pieces and then stoop to a letter opener. Give it back and we'll call it good, hmm?"

"Fine," Josie sighed. She retrieved the object from the pocket of her jacket.

"Thank you," said Nina. "You got off easy today because I have someplace to be. Don't let me catch you again."

"You can't stop me from stealing."

"Um, yes. I can," Nina corrected. "But why would I want to? You've got potential. Use it." She walked off and left the incredulous Josie. Nina really did have an important appointment she couldn't be late for.

The cool golden metal of a pin glided against the gloved fingers in her pocket. Josie really shouldn't carry past prizes with her when she was out for more. Nina had taken it from her easily. She smirked at the irony of her having this particular pin at this particular time. Today was the day that the company that was engraved on the pin fell, and it would all be Nina's doing.

**XxX**

"Do you think we've ever been in a worse situation before?" Sam asked. Her words echoed slightly on the blank walls of the cell. Everything was monochrome and smooth here.

Josie shook her head. "These people are more put together than the county constables. The locks are all very hair-pin proof."

"Shoot," Sam gave the barred door a searing look.

"Hey," Josie got her attention again with a tap of her boot. "Thanks for trying."

"Huh? Yeah, sure," Sam smiled a little. "Best Team Forever?"

"Best Team Forever," Josie agreed.


End file.
